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LETTERS   FROM   THREE   CONTINENTS. 

BY  MATT.  F.  WARD. 
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ENGLISH    ITEMS: 


OR, 


MICROSCOPIC   VIEWS 


ENGLAND    AND    ENGLISHMEN. 


BY 

MATT.   F.   WARD, 

AUTHOR  OF  "LETTERS  FROM  THREE  CONTINENTS.'' 


THlHD     EDITION. 


NEW-YORK  : 
D.   APPLETON    AND    COMPANY, 

200  BROADWAY. 
M.DOCC.LIII. 


ENTEEKD  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863,  by 
D.  APPLETON  &  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of 
New-York. 


TO 

J.   J.    HUGHES,   ESQ., 

®tjis  SBork  is  Stetetcit, 

AS 
A    SLIGHT   TESTIMONIAL   OF   SINCERE   FRIENDSHIP 

AND 
HIGH     RESPECT. 

MATT.  F.  WARD. 


248295 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 
OUR  INDIVIDUAL  RELATIONS  WITH  ENGLAND  .        .  9 

CHAPTER  II. 
SIXPENNY  MIRACLES  IN  ENGLAND 22 

CHAPTER  III. 
THE  CUSTOM-HOUSE 68 

CHAPTER  IV. 
RURAL  SCENERY 71 

CHAPTER  V. 
ENGLISH  WRITERS  ON  AMERICA 83 

CHAPTER  VI. 
ENGLISH  MANNERS 209 

CHAPTER  VII. 
ENGLISH  DEVOTION  TO  DINNER 228 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
ENGLISH  GENTILITY  245 


8  CONTENTS. 

PAG* 

CHAPTER  IX. 
ORIGIN  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND      .        .  2G6 

CHAPTER   X. 
PERSECUTION  UNDER  THE  ESTABLISHED  CHURCH       .         .         270 

CHAPTER  XI. 
PRESENT  STATE  OF  THE  ESTABLISHED  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND       291 

CHAPTER  XII. 
HERALDRY  337 


ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

OUli  INDIVIDUAL  EELATIONS   WITH  ENGLAND. 

ENGLISHMEN,  and  their  admirers,  have  so  carefully 
stowed  away  English  supremacy  in  a  nice  glass  box, 
guarded  at  every  angle  by  portentous  "  hands  off,"  as  suc 
cessfully  to  protect  it  from  the  too  close  scrutiny  of  the 
masses.  Indeed,  whilst  it  continues  the  custom  of  the  Miss 
Nancies,  and  old  women  of  the  fashionable  and  literary 
worlds  of  America  extravagantly  to  extol  every  thing  Eng 
lish,  it  will  be  deemed  reprehensible  temerity  in  any  man,  to 
refuse  to  acknowledge  the  received  superstition.  The  Amer 
ican,  daring  enough  to  assail  England's  claims  to  superiority, 
will  be  pronounced  guilty  of  outrage  by  those  of  his  country 
men,  too  indolent  or  too  dastardly  to  think  for  themselves. 
His  sacrilege  will  be  thought  no  greater  by  these  Angli 
cized  Republicans,  than  that  of  the  conqueror  Antiochus,  in 
the  opinion  of  the  Jews,  when  he  boldly  entered  their  temple 
— ordered  a  great  sow  to  be  sacrificed  on  the  altar  for  burnt- 
offerings — and  polluted  the  Holy  of  Holies,  by  having  the 
blood  of  the  unclean  animal  scattered  about  the  sacred 
edifice. 

Before  I  had  ever  travelled  beyond  the  confines  of  the 
1* 


10  .  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

United  States,  I  had  grown  weary  of  the  thraldom  to  Eng 
lish  dictation  of  public  opinion  in  America.  I  entertained 
no  great  love  for  Englishmen,  and  all  that  I  saw  during  my 
first  visit  to  Europe,  and  what  I  have  seen  since,  has  not 
served  to  increase  my  affection  for  them.  Yet  I  must  con 
fess  that  I  experienced,  a  year  or  two  ago,  certain  aguish 
sensations  at  my  own  rashness,  in  expressing  a  somewhat 
unfavorable  opinion  of  Englishmen  and  their  manners.  It 
might  have  been,  as  a  distinguished  Review  sagely  remarked, 
an  unbearable  degree  of  impudence  in  an  unknown  individ 
ual  from  Arkansas,  to  pretend  to  pronounce  judgment  on 
the  refinements  of  English  society.  But  being  accustomed 
to  attack  rampant  bears  at  home,  I  suppose  the  innocent 
cavortings  of  the  British  Lion  seemed  much  less  terrible  to 
me,  than  to  some  of  my  more  civilized  countrymen,  who  had 
never  seen  angry  beasts  out  of  cages.  Although  the  roar 
of  this  pampered  Lion  of  England  has  long  since  ceased  to 
affect  us  as  a  nation,  yet  no  one  can  doubt  that  his  complain 
ing  growls  make  those  individuals  quake  amongst  us,  who 
pretend  to  a  refined  excess  either  of  fashion  or  gentility. 
I  am  sorry  to  observe  that  it  is  becoming  more  and  more 
the  fashion,  especially  among  "  travelled  "  Americans,  to  pet 
the  British  beast.  In  defiance  of  his  surly  ways,  they  are 
eternally  trying  by  flattery  to  coax  him  into  good  humor, 
as  the  boys  throw  apples  and  gingerbread  to  his  prototype 
of  the  menagerie.  He  never  fails  to  repay  their  officious 
kindness  with  snarling  disapprobation,  and  always  attacks  the 
hand  that  pats  him.  But  instead  of  treating  him  like  other 
refractory  brutes,  they  pusillanimously  strive  to  soothe  him 
by  a  forbearance  he  cannot  appreciate.  They  never  laugh 
so  loudly,  as  when  suffering  from  his  bite,  and  good-natur 
edly  designate  his  ruthless  clawings  the  facetious  indications 
of  a  playful  disposition. 

What  beast-tamer,  in  his  senses,  ever  dreamed  of  subdu- 


OUR   INDIVIDUAL    RELATIONS    WITH    ENGLAND.  11 

ing  an  angry  lion  by  soothing  him  ?  Beasts  are  ruled  through 
fear,  not  kindness.  They  submissively  lick  the  hand  that 
wields  the  lash,  not  the  one  that  feeds  them.  So  long  as  we 
attempt  to  pacify  the  British  Lion  by  patting  him,  we  shall 
be  clawed  and  bitten.  He  must  be  treated  according  to  his 
nature.  Seize  him  fearlessly  by  the  throat,  and  once  strangle 
him  into  involuntary  silence,  and  the  British  Lion  will  here 
after  be  as  fawning  as  he  has  hitherto  been  spiteful. 

It  is  a  melancholy  fact,  which  I  am  most  reluctant  to  ac 
knowledge  even  to  myself,  that  there  is  a  growing  inclination 
towards  flunkeyism,  in  what  are  termed  the  higher  classes  of 
society  in  America.  "We  too  frequently  find  the  American 
recently  returned  from  Europe,  whose  powers  of  observa 
tion  should  be  quickened  by  foreign  associations,  and  whose 
mind  should  be  so  enlarged  by  studying  the  institutions  of 
other  countries,  as  to  enable  him  better  to  understand  the 
inestimable  blessings  of  our  own,  expressing  a  captious  dis 
satisfaction  with  his  own  country.  Sneering  at  America — 
finding  fault  with  her  people — ridiculing  her  manners — and 
objecting  to  her  customs  ;  he  professes  to  find  nothing  good 
enough  for  him,  with  the  eminently  flunkey  hope,  that  those 
of  his  countrymen  who  have  remained  at  home,  will  be  in 
spired  with  awful  respect  for  his  improved  taste,  and  trav 
elled  cultivation.  If  our  travelled  countrymen  can  derive 
no  higher  evidence  of  improvement  from  a  European  tour, 
than  a  servile  imitation  of  every  thing  they  have  seen  in 
England,  even  to  fault-finding  with  America,  I  sincerely 
hope  they  may  for  ever  remain  in  the  republican  simplicity 
which  they  received  from  our  Fathers.  If  no  more  valuable 
lesson  is  to  be  learned  by  Americans  abroad,  than  that  pa 
triotism  is  something  to  be  ashamed  of,  Democrat  as  I  am, 
I  would  favor  a  general  embargo  law,  to  keep  them  at  home. 
And  when  in  spite  of  every  precaution  the  citizens  of  the 
United  States  have  become  so  cosmopolitan,  by  travel,  as  to 


12  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

deem  it  necessary  to  rail  at  their  own  country,  as  a  proof  of 
freedom  from  "  provincial  prejudices,"  I  hope  there  may  be 
some  newly  discovered  California  to  which  I  may  peacefully 
emigrate. 

I  mentioned  above  the  earlier  symptoms  a  fearfully 
spreading  disease,  which  can  only  be  cured  I  fear  by  cauter 
izing.  In  the  more  advanced  stages  of  this  epidemic, 
brought  among  us  from  foreign  parts,  we  find  its  victims  af 
fecting  the  society  of  transient  Englishmen,  who,  coming  to 
America  arrayed  in  the  cast-off  airs  of  their  superiors  at 
home,  always  laugh  at  their  too  eager  hosts,  and  make  butts 
of  their  over-zealous  admirers.  These  cockneys  are  right  in 
their  treatment  of  such  despicable  sycophants.  Well  aware 
that  they  are  prompted  by  none  of  the  higher  impulses  of 
hospitality,  but  actuated  by  the  mean  ambition  of  borrowing 
importance  from  their  servility  to  them,  these  Englishmen 
have  my  applause,  at  least,  for  making  them  feel  their 
degradation.  Alas  !  that  an  American  freeman  should  sub 
mit  to  be  kicked  by  an  upstart  Briton,  with  the  silly  hope 
that  there  were  people  around  him.  silly  enough  to  envy  him 
the  supposed  honor  of  his  aristocratic  associations.  The 
operation  of  kicking  certainly  does  imply  very  intimate  re 
lations  of  position,  at  least,  and  the  American  flunkeys 
may  be  partially  right  in  their  expectations,  for  there  are  a 
few  among  us,  who  will  persist  in  estimating  an  English 
man's  real  rank  by  his  pretensions,  and  who  will  not  give  up 
the  superstition,  that  every  thing  English  must  necessarily 
be  superior.  These  transient  English  do  but  obey  their  in 
stincts  in  kicking  all  Americans  who  will  allow  them.  The 
tiling  becomes  a  duty,  no  less  than  a  recreation,  when  they 
happen  to  encounter  those,  who  consider  such  a  proceeding 
on  their  part,  not  only  a  great  condescension,  but  an  honor  to 
themselves,  and  will  apologize  to  the  kicker,  accordingly,  for 
giviug  him  the  trouble  to  confer  it.  In  such  instances  I  al- 


OUR   INDIVIDUAL   RELATIONS    WITH    ENGLAND.  13 

ways  feel  tempted  to  assist  John  Bull,  though  to  do  him 
justice,  the  infliction  is  generally  made,  I  believe,  with  a  very 
good  will.  It  must  be  a  great  luxury  for  the  poor  British 
ers,  to  meet  with  an  opportunity  of  treating  other  people  as 
they  have  always  been  accustomed  to  being  treated  them 
selves.  Having  all  their  lives  submitted  to  .being  kicked  at 
home,  they  are  eminently  qualified  to  appreciate  the  privi 
lege  of  kicking,  and  enjoy  it  accordingly.  What  flunkey 
would  not  1  An  Englishman  is  somewhat  excusable  after 
all  for  his  snobbish  propensities.  Born  in  the  land  of  flunk- 
eydom,  breathing  the  atmosphere,  and  reared  amidst  the 
prejudices  of  flunkeys,  it  would  be  unnatural,  indeed,  if  he 
did  not  himself  become  a  veritable  flunkey.  But  what  can 
be  said  of  Americans,  who,  without  any  such  apology,  know 
ingly  and  wilfully  become  the  flunkeys  of  flunkeys,  and 
toadyize  toadies  ?  I  am  not  a  harsh  man  by  nature,  but  I 
would  have  such  renegades  stretched  upon  the  rack  of  pub 
lic  opinion.  Traitors  to  themselves,  their  country,  and  her  in 
stitutions — I  would  take  keen  delight  in  seeing  them  so  tor 
tured,  that  their  sufferings  might  prove  a  warning  to  all,  suf 
ficiently  destitute  of  manhood,  to  follow  their  example. 

I  mean  not  to  intimate  in  the  remotest  manner,  that 
every  citizen  of  England  who  visits  our  country,  belongs  to 
the  class  I  have  alluded  to,  nor  do  I  wish  to  be  under 
stood  as  insinuating,  that  every  American  who  extends  to  an 
Englishman  the  ordinary  civilities  of  society,  must  necessa 
rily  be  a  flunkey.  I  have  myself  known  several  English 
gentlemen,  and  I  have  no  doubt  there  are  many  coming  to 
America,  whose  social  qualities  would  make  them  the  wel 
come  guests  of  every  family  circle.  But  I  regard  it  as  an 
excess  of  absurdity,  unworthy  of  us,  warmly  to  seize  every 
straggler  by  the  hand,  simply  because  he  happens  to  be  an 
Englishman.  While  our  present  social  relations  with  Eng 
lishmen  at  home,  continue  to  exist,  the  mere  fact  of  a  man's 


14  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

being  from  England,  so  far  from  becoming  a  passport  intc 
the  bosoms  of  our  family  circles,  should  be  considered  just 
cause  for  scrutinizing  inquiries,  as  to  his  position  and  real 
character.  For  though  we  occasionally  meet  with  a  gentle 
man  from  that  country,  yet  past  experience  should  have  long 
since  convinced  us  that  we  cannot  be  too  skeptical  as  to 
a  Britisher's  claims  to  our  hospitality,  till  we  have  some  in 
distinct  idea  as  to  what  he  is.  A  London  cit,  accustomed 
all  his  days  to  the  degrading  consciousness  of  inferiority,  is 
so  intoxicated  by  the  unexpected  attentions  with  which  he  is 
generally  received  in  this  country,  that  he  ought  scarcely  to 
be  considered  responsible  for  the  sneers,  with  which,  in  his 
drunken  elevation,  he  always  repays  the  kindness  our  citi 
zens  have  extended  to  him.  I  am  a  great  believer  in  reci 
procity,  and  I  would  have  it  made  as  difficult  for  an  English 
man  to  gain  access  to  the  better  houses  of  America,  as  they 
have  made  it  for  an  American  to  enter  the  higher  classes  of 
society  in  Great  Britain.  So  prevalent  is  the  opinion  that 
Americans  are  improper  inmates  of  the  fashionable  houses 
of  England,  that  I  once  heard  a  boastful  English  Banker 
giving  as  an  evidence  of  his  superior  influence,  his  having 
actually  been  able  to  introduce  a  wealthy  American,  who 
had  for  nearly  twenty  years  been  a  resident  of  London,  into 
one  of  their  clubs.  If  an  American  will  consent  temporarily 
to  make  a  penny-postman  of  himself,  and  carry  a  small  mail- 
bag  of  introductory  letters,  he  may  reasonably  hope  to  en 
joy  the  honor  of  receiving  a  diminutive  bit  of  glazed  paste 
board,  with  some  aristocratic  inscription ;  or  if  his  recom 
mendations  are  unusually  strong,  he  may  be  inflicted  with 
the  oppressive  distinction  of  a  dinner.  But  as  he  enjoys  no 
titular  rank,  he  must  submit  to  the  mortification  of  going  in 
at  the  tail  end  of  all  the  guests,  and  being  seated  at  the 
foot  of  the  table — when  positions  at  table  arc  regarded  as 
matters  of  import.  Who  but  an  Englishman  would  invite  a 


OUR   INDIVIDUAL   RELATIONS    WITH    ENGLAND.  15 

man  to  his  house  to  insult  him  ?  But  such  is  the  custom  in 
England.  If  the  rights  of  hospitality  are  not  considered 
superior  to  mere  conventional  usages  of  the  country,  stran 
gers  should  not  be  compelled  to  suffer  on  account  of  the  ab 
surd  ignorance  of  their  hosts.  If  a  man  is  worthy  of  an 
invitation  to  another's  house,  he  certainly  has  a  right  to  expect 
the  treatment  due  to  a  gentleman. 

There  are  some  of  our  citizens,  who  seem  to  be  troubled 
with  a  mawkishly  tender  regard  for  the  sensibilities  of  the 
"  dear  old  Mother  Country."  The  truth  must  not  even  be 
told,  for  fear  of  giving  offence  to  the  burly  inhabitants  of  the 
sweet  land  of  our  ancestors.  What  have  we  ever  received 
from  that  country  but  injustice  ?  She  oppressed  us  as  col 
onies — she  twice  attempted  to  crush  us  by  war — and  yet, 
according  to  these  puling  lovers  of  "  the  Old  Country,"  we 
must  be  humbly  grateful,  now,  because  she  magnanimously 
permits  us  to  advance  in  power  and  prosperity,  when  she 
could  not  possibly  restrain  us.  When  has  she  ever  omitted 
an  opportunity  of  injuring  us,  when  she  could  do  so  with 
impunity  ?  She  has  always  interfered  with  our  commercial 
relations,  when  she  dared.  She  has  invariably  attempted 
to  shackle  our  progress,  whilst  professing  to  protect  the 
rights  of  weaker  nations.  She  has  assailed  us  through  her 
press  ;  slandered  us  in  her  books ;  struggled  to  excite  the 
animosity  of  other  countries  against  us — and  yet  we  must 
raise  no  murmur  of  retort,  because,  forsooth,  she  happens  to 
be  "  the  Old  Country."  What,  I  beg  to  be  informed,  is  this 
"  Old  Country"  to  us  that  we  should  truckle  to  her ?  Out 
upon  those  who  preach  this  miserably  servile  doctrine. 
My  contempt  is  scarcely  surpassed  by  what  the  English 
must  feel  for  them. 

There  are  many  more  of  us,  who,  at  heart  love  America, 
as  she  deserves  to  be  loved,  but  have  not  the  moral  courage 
to  speak  out  like  men:  the  English  might  laugh  at  our 


16  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

extravagant  admiration  of  our  own  country.  Let  them 
first  prove  that  she  does  not  deserve  our  most  enthusiastic 
opinions,  and  I  too  will  become  as  silent  as  the  most  Angli 
cized.  Britain  would  be  delighted  to  shame  us  out  of  our 
patriotism,  for  it  might,  some  day,  give  dangerous  anima 
tion  to  our  strength.  No  eulogy  of  England  could  be  too 
extravagant,  but  'tis  absurd  to  praise  America.  It  seems 
to  me  a  hard  case,  indeed,  that  Americans  are  to  be  re 
strained  from  a  free  expression  of  what  they  think  of 
America,  by  the  apprehension  of  English  disapprobation. 
Who  appointed  her  censor  of  our  opinions?  What  do  we 
owe  her  that  we  should  so  meekly  bow  to  her  mandates  ? 
Not  even  the  doubtful  boon  of  our  birth.  The  royal  miser 
Henry  VII.  refused  to  assist  Columbus  in  his  voyage  of 
discovery,  and  after  it  was  accomplished  without  him,  what 
English  monarch  ever  essayed  to  people  the  new-found 
world?  To  the  enterprise  of  Raleigh,  aided  by  English 
tyranny  towards  our  forefathers,  we  are  indebted  for  our 
appearance  among  nations.  Uncared  for,  and  despised,  we 
remained,  until  our  growth  made  us  important  to  the  sup 
port  of  our  tender  parent,  whose  earliest  solicitude  for  the 
long-neglected  foundling,  was  manifested  by  oppression. 
She  first  attempted  to  rob  us  by  means  of  venal  laws.  She 
then  tried  to  crush  us  in  an  unequal  contest — and  finally 
yielded  to  force,  the  rights  she  had  meanly  refused  to  sup 
plication.  Does  such  a  course  deserve  gratitude,  or  con 
tempt  ?  We  should  treat  her  now,  as  we  treated  her  then : 
command  her  respect  by  our  boldness,  not  beg  her  toleration 
by  obsequious  complaisance.  She  must  feel  our  power 
before  she  will  acknowledge  it.  So  long  as  we  attempt  to 
conciliate  her  by  meek  submission  to  her  judgment,  she  will 
continue  to  despise  us.  Our  gentle  forbearance  will  be 
considered  weakness — and  our  friendly  advances  she  will 
mistake  for  servility.  The  Bible,  'tis  true,  commands  us 


OUR    INDIVIDUAL   RELATIONS    WITH    ENGLAND.  17 

to  "  forgive  our  enemies,"  but  the  English,  influenced  by  the 
old  adage  of  judging  others  by  themselves,  will  attribute 
our  complying  with  this  Christian  precept,  to  a  want  of 
spirit  to  resent  her  insults.  The  Quaker  doctrine  of  "  turn 
ing  the  other  cheek "  she  cannot. understand.  Her  people 
cannot  appreciate  the  retiring  nature  of  true  gentility,  either 
in  nations  or  individuals.  They  cannot  conceive  of  a 
entleman's  being  modest  in  his  demeanor,  unless  from  the 
consciousness  of  inferiority.  Nor  can  they  realize  how  a 
nation  could  fail  to  be  blustering,  except  from  cowardice. 

The  English  are  eager  to  impress  upon  us  the  fact  that 
undivided  devotion  to  our  country  is  "  provincial."  They 
kindly  warn  us  of  the  danger  of  "narrow-minded  preju 
dices,"  and  descant,  with  tumid  eloquence,  upon  the  libe 
rality  of  enlarged  understandings,  and  cultivated  minds. 
They  condescendingly  inform  us  that  a  man,  who  could  con 
tinue  to  think  "  there  is  no  place  like  home,"  would  be  very 
justly  suspected  of  never  having  wandered  beyond  the  limits 
of  his  native  country.  If  he  desires  to  be  appreciated,  as 
a  traveller,  and  man  of  the  world,  he  must  give  up  such  old- 
fashioned  notions.  He  must  take  England  as  his  model, 
and  sneer  at  the  deficiencies  of  America,  or  else  he  will 
incur  the  danger  of  being  considered  an  individual  of  limited 
understanding,  and  "  narrow-minded  prejudices."  Should 
he  feel  any  curiosity  as  to  what  constitutes  this  particular 
genus  of  "  prejudices,"  which  is  so  industriously  harped 
upon  by  Englishmen,  he  will  discover  that  their  ideas  of 
"  narrow-minded  prejudices  "  consist  in  doing  justice  to  the 
two  countries.  To  be  "  provincial "  is  to  adhere  to 
America — to  display  a  cultivated  taste,  admire  England. 

The  English  may  be,  in  some  measure,  excusable  for 
their  own  preposterous  vanity,  and  glaring  illiberality  to 
other  people,  from  the  fact  of  their  having  so  rarely  received 
the  lesson,  of  seeing  themselves  as  others  see  them.  Most 


18  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Americans  who  have  written  upon  England,  have  been 
either  flattered  or  bullied  into  drawing  the  most  glowing 
pictures  of  English  comfort — of  English  freedom — English 
society — and  English  every  thing.  One  very  naturally 
supposes  them  discoursing  of  a  model  nation,  with  model 
government,  model  manners,  and  model  dispositions,  and 
feels  but  little  curiosity  to  test  the  depth  of  the  gloss  with 
which  they  have  so  tastefully  varnished  every  thing  in  the 
country.  It  is  not  surprising,  however,  that  England  should 
wield  a  vast  influence  over  men,  ambitious  of  literary  fame. 
When  it  is  remembered  how  submissively  the  American 
public  have  been  wont  to  abide  by  the  decision  of  English 
critics,  it  ought  no  longer  to  appear  strange,  that  aspiring 
authors  should  attempt  to  curry  favor  of  those,  in  whose 
hands  has  been  placed  the  power  of  awarding  the  honors  of 
literary  distinction.  This  is  all  wrong.  America,  to  enjoy 
that  independence,  of  which  she  may  be  so  justly  proud, 
should  have  her  own  critics,  as  well  as  her  own  manufac 
turers  of  cotton  and  iron. 

There  have  been  statesmen  in  our  country  strenuously 
to  advocate  the  protection  of  home  industry.  Oppressive 
tariffs  have  been  supported,  in  order  to  assist  our  domestic 
manufactures  to  compete  with  the  foreign.  But  is  it  not 
strange,  that  it  has  never  occurred  to  the  sages  of  our 
Republic,  that  mills  and  foundries  do  not  embrace  the 
entire  field  of  American  industry  ?  Is  it  not  extraordinary 
that  it  has  never  occurred  to  them,  that  cotton  and  iron  are 
not  the  only  commodities  which  American  genius  might 
work  up  to  advantage  if  properly  fostered  1  There  is  a  raw 
material,  ordinarily  known  as  brains,  that  we  have  already 
employed  with  success,  notwithstanding  the  difficulties 
against  which  we  have  contended.  We  have  already 
accomplished  much,  and  may  do  more,  with  proper  encou 
ragement.  Bryant,  Halleck,  Longfellow  and  Willis,  Sparks, 


OUR   INDIVIDUAL   RELATIONS    WITH    ENGLAND.  19 

Prescott  and  Bancroft,  Cooper,  Irving  and  Mitchel,  are 
master  workmen,  whom  we  may  proudly  compare  with  the 
world's  best  living  artisans.  But  this  industrial  establish 
ment,  like  all  our  others,  is  still  young,  and  requires  fostering. 

I  here  declare  myself  a  protectionist — I  am  an  advocate 
of  a  high  tariff  too  in  favor  of  mind.  American  intellect 
as  well  as  American  labor  deserves  to  be  protected.  Dis 
covering  our  own  merits,  let  us  support  them.  Let  us  culti 
vate  a  national  taste,  as  we  have  established  a  national  charac 
ter.  We  have  too  long  ago  asserted  our  independence  of 
English  rulers,  to  continue  dependent  of  English  critics. 
We  have  strong  native  judgment ;  let  us  exercise  it  as  fear 
lessly  with  regard  to  literature,  as  to  every  thing  else.  I 
mean  not  to  favor  a  cavilling  spirit,  that  would  habitually 
condemn  what  England  praised,  and  praise  what  England 
condemned.  I  merely  insist  upon  the  exercise  of  that  dis 
criminating  power,  which  we  possess  in  a  sufficiently  eminent 
degree,  to  make  us  certain  that  the  expression  of  our  na 
tional  opinion  will  never  call  a  blush  into  the  cheek  of  one 
of  our  citizens  abroad.  Let  us  not  wait  "  with  bated  breath  " 
for  what  England  shall  say  of  a  work  of  art,  before  we  an 
swer  with  a  servile  echo  from  this  side  the  Atlantic.  We 
may  be  sometimes  wrong,  most  people  are,  but  we  can  at 
least  be  independent. 

The  attempt  is  vain  to  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact,  that 
England  has  hitherto  been  the  model,  on  which  we  have 
dressed  ourselves.  No  native  merit,  however  distinguished, 
.could  pass  current  till  stamped  by  English  approbation. 
An  author  must  be  favorably  noticed  by  English  critics, 
before  he  can  hope  to  be  extensively  read  at  home.  An 
actor  must  cross  the  seas  in  search  of  a  reputation,  and  most 
of  our  wiseacres  tremble  to  express  an  opinion,  which  is  not 
a  close- cut  pattern,  of  what  has  been  said  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Atlantic.  From  England  we  borrowed  our  notions 


20  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

of  etiquette — and  from  the  same  notable  birthplace  of  ab 
surdities,  we  have  imported  our  ideas  of  gentility.  We  ran 
after  Englishmen,  and  affected  their  opinions  of  rank.  In 
deed,  England  has  been  our  oracle,  whose  responses  were 
reverenced,  like  Delphi's  of  yore  ;  and  few  have  there  been, 
who,  like  Demosthenes,  when  he  declared  that  the  priestess 
"  Philipized,"  have  dared  to  express  a  doubt  of  their  infalli 
bility.  But  a  revolution  is  commenced — this  sort  of  thing 
is  rapidly  passing  away ;  indeed  in  many  portions  of  our 
country  it  has  wholly  disappeared.  There  are  fortunately 
many  strong  intellects  among  us,  who  think  and  speak  for 
themselves  of  literature,  and  the  arts,  as  boldly  as  of  politics. 
I  cannot  but  hope  that  a  reform  is  at  hand  in  the  fashiona 
ble  world ;  and  I  predict  that  Americans  in  all  parts  of  the 
country  will  soon  use  silver  forks,  for  some  more  sensible 
reason  than  that  Englishmen  have  pronounced  it  vulgar  to 
eat  with  a  knife. 

There  are  those  among  us,  who  regard  the  attacks  of  the 
English  with  good-natured  contempt,  who  feel  amused,  not 
incensed  by  their  jealousy,  and  consider  it  unbecoming  Ame 
ricans  to  notice  their  slanders.  They  very  properly  regard 
personalities  as  low  bred,  and  believe  it  as  ungentlemanly  in 
us  to  retort,  as  it  is  in  the  English  to  assail.  For  the 
opinions  of  such  persons,  I  entertain  so  high  a  respect,  that 
I  most  willingly  make  to  them  an  explanation  of  my  course, 
in  the  following  pages.  I  agree  with  them  entirely,  that  per 
sonal  attacks  are  vulgar,  and  that  the  indulgence  in  them, 
by  our  assailants,  does  not  justify  us  in  their  use.  But  in 
any  warfare,  we  must  adapt  our  weapons  to  the  enemy  with 
whom  we  arc  engaged,  and  hard  blows  are  the  only  logic  the 
English  understand.  To  affect  their  understandings,  we 
must  punch  their  heads.  We  have  acted  on  the  defensive 
principle  long  enough,  and  if  we  are  not  ambitious  of  always 
continuing  the  butts  for  newspaper  jokes,  and  tourists'  slan- 


OUR   INDIVIDUAL    RELATIONS    WITH    ENGLAND.  21 

ders,  we  must  ourselves  make  the  attack.  To  procure 
peace,  we  must  "  carry  the  war  into  Africa."  If  we  do  not 
ourselves  maintain  our  dignity,  the  English  will  scarcely  do 
so  for  us.  Towards  them,  we  must  be  as  stiff  and  unbend 
ing  as  themselves.  We  must  demand,  not  beg  their  atten 
tion.  "We  know  what  is  due  us ;  we  must  insist  upon  re 
ceiving  it.  To  sum  the  matter  up,  it  is  time  we  should 
"  set  up  "  for  ourselves ;  we  must  fulfil  our  destiny,  without 
stopping  to  inquire  what  people  in  England  will  say.  We 
have  too  long  been  in  the  leading  strings  of  Great  Britain  • 
for  even  if  we  were  still  an  infant  among  the  nations  of  the 
earth,  we  should  never  walk  alone,  if  we  did  not  try.  But 
we  are  no  longer  a  child.  Young  as  we  are  we  have  the 
strength,  and  let  us  show  the  independence  of  a  man.  We 
have  a  nationality  of  our  own — it  is  our  duty  to  support  it. 
To  borrow  the  words  of  the  immortal  Washington, — "  I 
want  an  American  character,  that  the  powers  of  Europe 
may  be  convinced  we  act  for  ourselves,  and  not  for  others." 


22  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

SIXPENNY  MIRACLES  IN   ENGLAND. 

SOME  erudite  Englishman,  Mr.  Leigh  Hunt,  perhaps, 
has  made  the  facetious  discovery  that  one  vast  counter 
lines  the  American  seaboard,  from  Maine  to  Florida.  Every 
American  should  glory  in  the  commercial  enterprise  of  our 
country.  In  defence  of  our  commercial  rights  we  obtained 
our  freedom.  Commerce  gave  us  the  power  to  achieve  our 
independence,  and  by  our  commerce  we  have  so  gloriously 
maintained  it.  But  in  reply  to  the  palpable  sneer  of  the 
funny  gentleman,  I  will  incur  the  danger  of  startling  my 
readers  by  the  novelty  of  an  expression,  for  the  sake  of  its 
force  :  "  people  who  live  in  glass  houses  ought  not  to  throw 
stones."  Even  supposing  that  Americans  are  somewhat 
more  addicted  to  money-making,  than  is  altogether  consist 
ent  with  a  philosophic  contempt  for  gold,  yet  the  English 
would  do  well  to  ';  cast  out  the  beam  out  of"  their  own  eye, 
before  seeking  for  "  the  mote  "  in  ours.  We  do  exert  our 
selves  sturdily  in  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  'tis  true,  but  'tis 
a  secondary  consideration,  it  is  sought  for  only  as  a  means  of 
power,  and  enjoyment.  But  with  an  Englishman,  money  is 
preeminent  ;  he  loves  it  for  its  own  substantial  sake.  And 
if  I  can  show  that  those  ostentatiously  paraded  qualities  of 
which  Englishmen  are  most  proud,  are  subservient  to  their 
thirst  for  lucre,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  most  skeptical  should 
be  convinced  that  money  is  adorable  in  their  eyes,  for  its 
own  shining  charms. 


SIXPENNY   MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  23 

The  English  are  a  cold,  selfish  nation,  with  few  emotions, 
and  a  limited  number  of  sentiments.  Patriotism,  with 
them,  never  assumes  that  rarefied  enthusiasm,  experienced  by 
other  nations.  But  still  an  Englishman  loves  England  ;  he 
is  proud  of  England,  not  that  he  discovers  about  her  any  ex 
traordinary  charms,  but  because  she  can  claim  the  honor  of 
having  given  him  birth.  Loyalty  and  religion  are  affected 
by  an  Englishman,  like  a  high  shirt-collar,  and  sleek  hat,  as 
the  indispensable  attributes  of  a  gentleman.  Indeed,  re 
garding  gentility  as  impossible  without  them,  he  cultivates 
these  desirable  qualities  with  the  coaxing  assiduity,  with 
which  enthusiastic  florists,  in  bleak  climes,  force  tropical 
plants  in  hot  houses.  In  accordance  with  the  routine  of 
proprieties,  which  he  has  prescribed  for  himself,  the  king 
and  the  church  are  the  pet  objects  of  his  veneration.  But 
when  kings  and  churches  cease  to  be  regarded,  what  can  be 
deemed  sacred  in  England  ?  When  both  loyalty  and  reli 
gion  are  traded  off,  for  a  paltry  consideration,  who  can  doubt  ^~ 
the  grovelling  propensities  of  the  English  ?  The  Govern 
ment  of  Great  Britain  demands  sixpence  of  every  visitor 
to  Westminster  Abbey. 

The  most  careless  worldling  must  feel  impressed  on  en 
tering  a  venerable  Cathedral.  There  is  something  awful, 
even  to  the  bravest,  about  death.  There  is  something  sa 
cred,  even  to  the  most  brutal,  in  the  tomb.  Yet  the  Eng 
lish,  professing  to  be  distinguished  for  their  loyalty,  and  pre 
tending  piously  to  venerate  every  thing  connected  with  the 
church,  have  degraded  this  hoary  pile,  among  whose  crum 
bling  arches  a  half-dozen  centuries  are  perched,  and  in  whose 
silent  aisles  repose  the  most  illustrious  heroes  of  English 
history,  into  a  show-room,  to  pocket  such  pitiful  earnings,  as 
the  owner  of  an  organ  and  monkey  might  scorn  to  grind 
for.  They  take  advantage  of  the  desire,  shared  alike  by 
strangers  and  Englishmen,  to  visit  the  tombs  of  Britain's 


24  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Kings,  to  charge  them  sixpence  for  their  admittance.  How 
deep  rooted  must  be  the  love  of  gain,  when  they  will  invade 
the  sacred  precincts  of  the  grave,  to  levy  this  black  mail  on 
the  curiosity  of  strangers  !  How  lost  to  all  sense  of  shame 
to  speculate  on  the  loyalty  of  the  nation  !  How  omnipotent 
must  be  the  reign  of  gold  in  the  hearts  of  the  nobles,  com 
posing  the  government,  when  they  would  coin  pennies  from 
the  dust  of  their  dead  ancestors  !  What  opinion  must  we 
entertain  of  the  dignity  and  liberality  of  a  government 
that  annually  devotes  millions  to  the  support  of  its  pension 
list,  and  will  yet  drag  forth  the  shades  of  her  heroes  to 
make  a  spectacle  for  the  gaping  multitude.  What  an  ex 
alted  estimate  they  must  place  upon  the  services  of  these 
dead  monarchs,  when  they  exhibit  them  to  spectators  at  six 
pence  a  head,  but  demand  a  shilling  for  a  sight  of  the  live 
monkeys  at  the  Zoological  Gardens.  This  sordid  policy 
which,  in  order  to  put  a  few  pounds  into  the  treasury,  com 
pels  these  ancient  worthies,  who  have  all  played  their  parts 
in  history,  to  play  the  catchpenny  characters  before  a  mob, 
makes  even  a  stranger,  who  never  loved  the  English,  blush 
for  their  baseness.  Even  I  would  have  them  spare  them 
selves  this  last  mark  of  ignominy. 

Their  apology  is  worthy  of  the  nation — it  only  costs  six 
pence  !  Price,  not  principle,  is  ever  uppermost  in  their 
minds.  It  is  the  amount  a  man  pays,  and  not  the  outrage  to 
his  feelings,  that  they  think  it  possible  might  distress  him. 
But  in  this  instance,  the  minuteness  of  the  charge  is  happily 
apportioned  to  the  motive  which  prompted  it.  What  could 
be  more  contemptible  than  either  ? 

These  sceptred  monarchs,  who  once  swayed  the  wills  of 
millions — formerly  the  proud  possessors  of  manors  and 
forests,  are  not  now  permitted  to  occupy  in  peace  their  pooi 
body's  length.  The  people  of  Great  Britain  have  grown  too 
eager  to  reap  its  profits,  and  the  soil  has  recently  become 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  25 

too  valuable  to  the  living,  to  be  consecrated  as  the  resting- 
place  of  the  dead.  These  buried  kings,  in  ceasing  to  be 
feared,  are  no  longer  respected ;  England  has  served  them, 
it  is  now  their  turn  to  serve  England.  It  is  the  duty  of  a 
good  sovereign  to  be  useful  to  his  people.  He  must  not  be 
a  burden  to  the  state,  and  must  therefore  issue  forth,  to 
dance  a  melancholy  jig  for  the  entertainment  of  the  populace, 
each  one  of  whom  has  paid  his  sixpence  to  witness  the  exhi 
bition.  A  happy  commentary  truly  upon  the  ancient  glory, 
and  modern  degeneracy  of  England; — a  heroic  monarch 
reduced  to  the  level  of  a  street  exhibitor  of  Punch  and 
Judy  !  Who  can  doubt  that  the  English  love  money  when 
their  loyalty  and  religion  are  bartered  for  pence,  and  their 
kings  and  churches  transformed  into  the  base  means  of  dis 
reputable  gain  ? 

There  is  something  so  venerable  about  the  Gothic  arches 
of  Westminster  Abbey, — something  so  solemn  in  the  silent 
array  of  its  discolored  tombs,  that  it  continues  to  be  im 
posing  even  in  the  dirty  hands  of  its  showmen.  Here 
reposes  all  that  is  greatest  and  best  of  England's  proud 
past.  Here  the  most  eminent  poets  and  sculptors  of  the 
world,  have  rendered  themselves  immortal,  in  paying  the 
last  tribute  to  expired  genius.  Undying  renown  not  only 
hangs  round  the  names  recorded,  but  rests  on  the  hands 
that  recorded  them.  An  atmosphere  of  holiest  impulses 
breathes  over  these  illustrious  monuments,  and  I  would  have 
no  one  drink  it  in  who  was  not  inspired  by  the  genius  of  the 
place.  A  man,  who  could  stand  in  the  presence  of  these 
honored  dead,  without  experiencing  the  most  elevated  emo 
tions,  I  would  banish  as  an  intruder  from  the  sacred  fane. 
I  would  have  a  visit  here  prompted  by  the  feelings,  with 
which  devout  palmers  make  pilgrimages  to  the  holy  places 
of  the  East.  I  would  fain  protect  this  solemn  niche  of  his 
torical  associations  from  the  approach  of  idle  curiosity.  But 
2 


26  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  English  seem  anxious  to  destroy  its  consecrated  charac 
ter.  They  lower  the  exalted  reputation  of  the  place  in 
offering  it  to  the  public  as  an  ordinary  spectacle ;  they 
assail  its  sanctity,  when  they  make  it  a  cheap  exhibition. 

The  illiterate  have  always  possessed  a  strong  natural  pro 
pensity  for  shows,  which  becomes  especially  animated,  when 
it  can  be  indulged  at  a  trifling  expense.  There  is  something 
strangely  fascinating  in  the  dignity  of  spending  one's  own 
money,  and  very  comfortable  in  the  idea  of  getting  the 
worth  of  it.  And  it  is  only  necessary  to  announce  a  cheap 
exhibition,  of  no  matter  what,  to  insure  crowds  of  ignorant 
spectators  flocking  to  see  it.  In  the  first  place,  the  name  of 
the  thing  is  attraction,  for  it  is  arranged  under  the  head  of 
"  Amusements  ;"  then  they  have  the  luxury  of  spending 
money,  without  the  inconvenience  attending  a  larger  outlay, 
and  besides  people  have  a  passion  for  seeing  and  doing  what 
they  have  to  pay  for,  whatever  is  "  free  "  possessing  no  at 
tractions.  Who  can  doubt  that  this  sixpenny  charge  proves 
a  bait  to  swarms  of  such  ignoramuses,  who  would,  other 
wise,  never  dream  of  entering  the  Abbey  ?  And  what  right 
have  the  English  government  to  suppose  that  they  would  feel 
greater  veneration  here,  than  at  any  other  "  show,"  when 
they  had  paid  sixpence  to  get  in?  They  come  to  sec,  not  to 
reflect.  They  tramp  through  the  resounding  ais^s  in  search 
of  something  they  do  not  find.  Lost  amidst  a  labyrinth  of 
names  they  never  heard  of,  and  stumbling  among  works  of 
art  they  do  not  understand,  'tis  not  surprising  that  they 
should  indulge  their  grumbling  dissatisfaction.  The  diminu- 
tivencss  of  the  entrance  fee  becomes  a  source  of  complaint, 
and  these  Englishmen,  who  estimate  every  thing  by  what 
they  pay  for  it,  wonder  at  their  own  folly  in  not  foreseeing 
the  character  of  the  exhibition,  from  the  cheapness  of  the 
price  of  admittance.  They  have  paid  their  sixpence,  how- 
over,  and  feel  at  liberty  to  criticise  the  performance,  and  it 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  27 

is  from  the  jeering  comments,  and  senseless  gibes  of  a  disap 
pointed  rabble  like  this,  that  I  would  fain  protect  the  hal 
lowed  recesses  of  Westminster. 

Those  who  attempt  to  defend  this  unworthy  practice, 
declare  that  the  inconsiderable  charge,  which  nobody  can 
feel,  is  made  merely  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  necessary 
guardians  of  the  church  against  the  mutilations  of  visitors. 
But  would  it  not  be  more  becoming  the  position  of  a  gov 
ernment,  which  generously  gives  the  Queen  $300.000  as  pin 
money,  and  can  afford  to  reward  her  majesty's  ex-master  of 
the  dance  with  a  pension  of  five  hundred  dollars  a  year — to 
devote  a  few  hundred  to  the  preservation  of  a  relta,  so 
venerated  as  Westminster  Abbey  ?  Or  if  the  public  finances 
would  not  permit  so  inconsiderable  an  outlay,  would  it  not 
be  more  dignified  to  curtail  the  perquisites  of  the  dashing 
noble  who  now  receives  as  master  of  the  queen's  stag  hounds? 
$10,000  a  year  for  occasionally  amusing  himself  by  going 
hunting  with  a  good  pack  of  dogs,  rather  than  subject  the 
poor  old  abbey  to  its  present  ignominy  ?  Or,  if  this  will 
not  do.  and  the  queen's  household  must  remain  intact  in 
spite  of  the  abbey,  why  not  leave  it  to  protect  itself?  It 
would  be  safer  in  its  solitary  majesty  guarded  only  by  the 
glorious  recollections  of  the  past  than  it  could  be  when 
watched  by  this  hired  train  of  insolent  menials.  Its  very 
helplessness  would  become  unto  it  a  wall  of  strength  ;  its 
silent  appeal  for  mercy  would  protect  it  from  the  rudest 
hands  ;  and  its  monuments,  that  time  and  history  have 
united  to  render  illustrious,  would  be  safe,  when  a  regiment . 
of  soldiers  might  fail  to  preserve  them.  Englishmen,  do 
this  ; — do  what  you  will,  but  spare — oh  spare  the  guiltless 
shades  of  your  buried  ancestors  the  shame  of  such  an 
exposure  ! 

But  if.  in  defiance  of  the  sanctity  of  the  place,  and  the 
veneration   you   profess  to   feel  for   your   forefathers,   you 


'28  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

will  continue  to  make  a  show-house  of  your  ancient  cathe 
dral,  why  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  decent,  do  you  not  make 
the  price  of  admission  worthy  of  the  celebrity  of  the 
object?  or  at  least  charge  enough,  to  insure  the  proper  con 
duct  of  the  showmen  ? 

The  government  having  closed  the  lofty  public  entrance, 
either  on  the  economical  principle  that  prompts  a  man  to 
lock  up  his  parlor,  except  on  Sunday,  or  because  they  are 
ashamed  of  the  business  they  are  engaged  in,  the  visitor  to 
Westminster  is  compelled  to  sneak  round  the  back  way, 
through  an  alley,  which  is  not  especially  calculated  to 
heighten  his  preconceived  impressions  of  the  Abbey.  But 
he  enters,  and  forgets  all  else.  Standing  beneath  the 
vaulted  arches  of  Westminster,  he  so  loses  all  sense  in  the 
delightful  mazes  of  reverie,  as  seriously  to  interrupt  the 
business  of  the  day.  did  not  an  official  in  sable  softly  de 
mand  his  cane,  and  thereby  wake  him  up  to  a  recollection 
of  what  he  came  to  do.  By  the  by,  even  if  you  happen  to 
be  a  cripple,  or  a  dandy,  instantly  discard  your  cane  upon 
arriving  at  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  I  care  not  how 
lame  you  may  happen  to  be  ;  limp,  crawl,  do  what  you  can, 
but  be  not  afflicted  by  this  supernumerary  nuisance.  For 
if  you,  as  of  course  you  will,  visit  all  the  galleries  and 
lions  of  England,  your  cane  will  subject  you  to  a  greater 
expenditure  of  time,  patience,  and  money,  than  most  peo 
ple  are  willing  to  submit  to. 

But  the  cane  is  deposited,  and  a  new  rush  of  emotions 
occurs.  The  accumulated  expectations  pent  up  since  his  boy 
hood,  become  oppressive  by  delay,  and  the  visitor  grows 
warm  and  fidgety  in  his  anxiety  to  be  admitted  to  the  holier 
places  of  the  church.  This  intensely  vivified  excitement 
never  becomes  dangerous,  however,  as  by  a  charitably  consi 
derate  arrangement  of  the  English  government,  it  is  always 
allowed  ample  time  to  eool.  The  numerous  irentlemen  in 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  29 

black,  whom  the  government  compels  the  old  church  to  pay,  for 
so  shabbily  doing  its  honors,  being  of  sedentary  habits,  and 
a  literary  turn  of  mind,  are  unwilling  to  be  interrupted  to 
convey  a  single  visitor  through  the  interior  chapels.  It 
requires  a  party  of  seven  curious  individuals,  each  one  pro 
vided  with  a  talisman  in  the  shape  of  a  sixpence,  to  inter 
rupt  the  comfortable  repose  of  a  pompous  official.  And  as 
most  people  have  ceased  to  consider  a  show,  composed  of 
mouldy  monuments  and  tattered  flags,  a  very  lively  one, 
even  when  it  happens  to  be  a  great  bargain — a  stranger 
will  usually  incur  the  risk  of  remaining  some  time  in  the 
antechamber.  During  the  painful  period  of  his  probation, 
he  is  subjected  to  the  impositions  of  another  class  of  huck 
sters.  Watching  with  the  liveliest  interest  the  various  stages 
of  his  impatience,  they  rapidly  advance  upon  him,  from 
every  nook  and  corner,  the  instant  they  perceive  him 
arrived  at  the  extreme  point  of  desperation.  With  un 
blushing  assurance,  they  poke  at  the  bewildered  gentleman 
descriptions  of  the  Abbey,  plans  of  the  building,  pictures 
of  the  monuments,  and  armsfull  of  other  plausible  stuff, 
which  they  feel  very  confident  he  has  not  the  courage,  in 
his  exhausted  condition,  to  refuse.  Of  course  he  buys 
every  thing,  without  much  examining  the  contents,  for  in 
his  melancholy  frame  of  mind  the  advertisements  of  the 
"  Times,"  a  week  old,  would  prove  a  refreshing  literary 
treat.  At  length,  however,  the  mystical  number  of  seven  is 
made  up.  The  stately  keeper  slowly  rises — unlocks  the 
door — passes  us  in  one  by  one,  that  being  the  most  con 
venient  mode  of  collecting  the  sixpences — enters  himself, 
and  again  turns  the  key.  An  extraordinary  metamorphosis 
instantly  occurs.  Our  guide  assumes  an  alacrity  quite 
startling,  when  contrasted  with  his  former  torpidity.  The 
man  appears  to  be  worked  by  steam.  In  his  mumbled 
routine  of  names,  dates,  and  nonsense,  the  only  distinguish- 


30  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

able  feature  is  its  haste.  He  rushes  us  through  chapels 
over  monuments,  and  along  aisles,  without  ever  pausing 
for  breath,  till  he  has  put  us  out  at  a  gate  on  the  other 
side,  with  the  .satisfied  sigh  of  a  man  who  has  just  accom 
plished  a  very  irksome  task.  This  is  a  visit  to  West 
minster  !  This  it  is  to  hold  communion  with  the  illustrious 
dead  !  This  is  the  intellectual  enjoyment  which  the  Eng 
lish  government  have  considered  too  delicious  to  be  offered 
to  the  public  gratis. 

In  the  inextricable  confusion  of  ages,  persons,  and 
events,  in  which  his  guide  has  succeeded  in  involving  him, 
the  visitor  feels  stunned  in  attempting  to  recollect  what  he 
has  seen :  few  men  would  be  rash  enough  to  attempt  re 
membering  what  they  had  heard.  A  vague  vision  of 
antique  tombs.  Gothic  chapels,  and  curious  sanctuaries  is  all 
he  has  to  show  for  his  visit  to  the  Abbey.  What  time  has 
been  allowed  to  the  historian,  to  connect  the  chain  of  events, 
recorded  by  these  monuments  ?  Has  the  antiquary  had  an 
opportunity  of  examining  the  inscriptions  ?  Has  the  phi 
losopher  been  permitted  to  reflect  upon  the  extraordinary 
changes  which  these  tombs  are  calculated  to  call  up  in  his 
mind?  Or  what  opportunity  has  the  ordinary  visitor  en 
joyed,  of  either  thought  or  reflection,  whilst  composing  one 
of  the  express  train,  which  our  locomotive  guide  has  suc- 
ceded  in  ';  putting  through,"  in  such  extraordinarily  fast 
time  ?  The  chief  enjoyment  in  the  Abbey  arises  from 
association  ;  time  must  be  granted  for  its  indulgence.  What 
educated  stranger,  in  paying  his  sixpence,  would  not  be 
delighted  to  give  twenty  times  the  sum,  to  be  allowed  to 
enjoy  his  visit  in  his  own  way.  without  the  hateful  domi 
nation  of  the  fast  guide?  But  the  English  government, 
although  ton  avaricious  to  surrender  so  important  a  branch 
of  the  public  revenue,  are  too  timid  to  demand  a  higher 
price  ;  their  only  apology  for  making  the  Abbey  a  paying 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  31 

exhibition,  being,  that  the  charge  is  an  extremely  "  moder 
ate  "  one.  Too  mean  to  resist  the  temptation  to  make  a 
petty  charge,  they  are  destitute  of  the  moral  courage  to  profit 
by  a  larger  one. 

I  would  love  to  muse  among  these  gray  old  tombs. 
I  should  delight  to  study  the  quaint  epitaphs  in  which  the 
partial  friends  of  ancient  times  have  recorded  the  imaginary 
virtues,  of  the  dead.  I  would  take  strange  pleasure  in 
wandering  through  these  lofty  corridors  and  echoing  aisles 
with  the  spirit  inhabitants  of  the  place.  I  could  find  ex 
quisite  enjoyment  in  passing  with  them  through  the  history 
of  the  past,  some  of  whose  stirring  events  each  one  of  them 
has  helped  to  contribute.  The  food  for  memory,  and  the 
pleasures  of  association,  in  a  spot  like  this,  seem  endless. 
But  for  such  enjoyment  a  man  must  be  allowed  to  linger 
long  and  often  in  these  hidden  recesses.  He  must  not  be 
interrupted,  or  hurried  by  impertinent  guides ;  he  must  be 
permitted  to  fly  even  from  himself,  and  live  only  in  the 
past.  But  such  permission  would  be  considered  most 
reprehensible  extravagance,  in  the  management  of  the 
public  funds ;  it  would  be  giving  too  much  "  show  "  for 
sixpence. 

I  have  too  long  lost  sight  of  our  visitor.  Hurried,  and 
heated,  he  is  ejected  from  that  other  gate  by  the  grim  jani 
tor,  who  slams  the  door  in  his  face  when  he  attempts  some 
what  to  enlighten  himself  by  a  civil  question,  and  uncere 
moniously  leaves  him  to  get  out  as  he  best  can.  Thoroughly 
disgusted  with  the  whole  proceeding,  he  experiences  even 
greater  anxiety  to  make  his  exit  than  he  had  previously 
done  his  entree.  Proceeding  forthwith  to  the  nearest  out 
let,  he  demands  with  sarcastic  politeness  his  cane,  which  the 
bland  gentleman  in  black  hands  him,  with  a  brief,  but  em 
phatic,  "  Tuppence,  Sir,  please."  In  a  fume,  he  searches  all 
his  pockets,  which  had  been  previously  exhausted  of  their 


32  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

small  change,  in  the  purchase  of  bad  descriptions,  and  "worse 
pictures  of  the  Abbey,  without  being  able  to  corner  a  stray 
sixpence,  or  even  shilling.  He  is  at  length  forced  to  hand 
a  half-sovereign  to  the  bland  man,  who,  smiling  his  regret 
that  he  has  nothing  but  small  change,  industriously  proceeds 
to  freight  the  pockets  of  the  exasperated  visitor  with  pen 
nies,  which  would  all  have  been  unceremoniously  thrown 
into  his  face,  had  not  the  unfortunate  sight-seer  retained 
coolness  enough  to  be  aware  that  he  would  pick  them  all 
quietly  up  again,  and  be  extremely  obliged  to  him  for  his 
profusion.  Becoming  hopelessly  conscious  of  the  utter  help 
lessness  of  his  position,  he  says  not  a  word,  but  with  a  slight 
groan,  starts  off,  packing  copper  as  naturally  as  the  mules 
in  the  mines  of  Peru.  Such  is  the  pitch  of  intellectual  en 
joyment,  to  which  the  enlightened  policy  of  Great  Britain 
has  succeeded  in  elevating  a  visit  to  Westminster  Abbey. 

The  sanctity  of  St.  Paul's  is  invaded  by  the  same  mer 
cenary  policy,  which  has  degraded  "Westminster.  A  stran 
ger,  whether  actuated  by  curiosity  or  piety,  cannot  cross  its 
sacred  threshold,  without  first  depositing  a  sixpence,  which 
seems  the  general  passport  to  all  the  holy  places  of  England. 
Its  being  demanded  at  the  door  of  every  public  building, 
worth  visiting,  has  conferred  on  the  paltry  price  a  sort  of 
nationality.  From  the  frequency  of  its  payment,  we  natu 
rally  associate  it  with  the  people  and  the  government. 
Really  this  perseverance  in  making  this  trivial  charge,  in 
all  public  places,  evinces  a  determination  on  the  part  of  the 
government  to  make  the  minutest  of  silver  coins  the  stand 
ard  of  British  honor.  But  whether  they  will  succeed  in 
elevating  the  sixpence  to  the  dignity  of  the  nation,  or  debas 
ing  the  dignity  of  the  nation  to  the  value  of  the  sixpence,  is 
a  question  future  historians  must  determine. 

Montesquieu  says  that  honor  is  the  safeguard  of  monar 
chies,  as  patriotism  is  that  of  republics.  Pocs  it  not  look 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  33 

ominous  for  the  future  glory  of  England,  that  she  herself 
values  her  honor  so  lightly? 

If  there  be  in  England  an  object  of  which  all  classes  may 
be  justly  proud,  it  is  St.  Paul's  Church.  It  combines  all  that 
is  stately  and  beautiful  in  architecture — every  thing  that  is 
grand  and  imposing  in  religion.  Piety  and  patriotism  have 
thrown  about  it  their  powerful  influences,  though  it  had  no 
need  of  either  to  make  it  impressive.  The  magnificent  result 
of  one  nation's  wealth,  and  one  man's  genius,  it  confers  honor 
on  Wren,  and  glory  on  England.  Though  the  largest  Pro 
testant  church  in  the  world,  and  among  the  brightest  tri 
umphs  that  architecture  has  achieved, — though  it  required 
forty-seven  years  for  its  completion,  it  is  remarkable  that 
the  unassisted  genius  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren  planned  and 
executed  this  stupendous  work.  He  laid  the  corner-stone, 
and  he  superintended  the  erection  of  the  crowning  cross. 

There  is  a  solemn  repose  about  the  looming  dome  of  St. 
Paul's,  an  elegance  about  its  graceful  towers,  and  chaste 
beauty  about  the  supporting  columns,  that  must  awe  into 
silent  admiration  the  most  careless  passer-by.  What  an  ef 
fect,  then,  must  it  produce  upon  the  stranger,  who  views  it 
for  the  first  time.  Excited,  delighted,  and  amazed  by  the 
splendor  of  its  exterior,  the  visitor  hastens  to  lose  himself 
amidst  the  glories  within — but  is  rudely  stopped  at  the  door 
to  pay  his  admission-fee.  What  a  fell  blow  to  his  noble  as 
pirations  !  What  violence  to  all  sense  of  propriety,  and 
every  feeling  of  religion  !  A  church,  however  lowly,  should 
be  kept  holy  as  the  memory  of  a  mother's  name  ;  it  should 
be  guarded  from  pollution  like  the  sanctity  of  her  tomb. 
To  convert  the  humblest  fane  to  worldly  purposes  is  sacrilege. 
But  what  shall  we  call  the  act  that  degrades  a  temple  like 
St.  Paul's  to  the  common  custom  of  a  tavern,  where  every 
body  may  enter  by  paying — nobody  without.  To  disturb 
the  holy  silence  of  the  house  of  God  by  the  angry  chaffering 
2* 


34  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

of  a  doorkeeper  about  the  price  of  admission,  is  a  deed  with 
out  a  name — a  sin  without  a  parallel. 

But.  once  within  the  doors — once  under  the  influence  of 
the  sublime  beauty  of  all  above  and  around  him.  it  is  no 
diflicult  matter  for  the  visitor  again  to  become  wrapped  in 
admiration,  and  lost  in  thought.  Beneath  the  vast  expanse 
of  that  mighty  dome,  his  thoughts  soar  heavenwards,  his  soul 
expands  into  that  almost  boundless  space, — he  hears  no 
thing — he  sees  nothing — he  knows  nothing  but  the  marble 
wonders  about  him.  Little  does  he  dream,  all  this  while,  that 
he  has  himself  been  the  object  of  solicitous  and  unceasing 
attention.  There  is  a  suspicious-looking  individual,  in  shab 
by  black,  intensely  eyeing  him,  whom  instinct  would  have 
told  him  to  avoid,  had  he  been  aware  of  his  presence.  At 
length,  seeming  to  despair  of  any  other  mode  of  attracting 
our  wrapped  visitor's  attention,  this  gloomy  looking  function 
ary,  with  the  gliding  movements  and  haggard  visage  of  a 
ghost,  delicately  touches  his  elbow,  and  wishes  to  know,  in 
the  softest  possible  tones,  (:  Whether  the  gentleman  wouldn't 
like  to  visit  the  whispering  gallery  ?"  Stupefied,  as  if  sud 
denly  awakened  from  a  dream,  he  stares  for  a  moment  in  si 
lence  at  the  intruder,  finds  his  voice  briefly  to  answer  ''No!" 
and  takes  refuge  behind  one  of  the  many  elegant  groups  of 
pillars  that  adorn  the  church.  His  privacy  is  soon  invaded 
by  another  hungry  official,  who  insinuatingly  suggests  to 
him  the  propriety  of  ;;  taking  a  look  at  the  library."  Once 
more  he  flies — this  time  to  a  remote  niche,  where  his  con 
templation  of  the  heroes'  statue,  enshrined  within,  is  again 
interrupted  by  a  third  officious  individual,  who  condescend 
ingly  informs  him  that  ':  the  old  tower  clock  is  a  great  won 
der  of  its  kind.''  Justly  concluding  the  plan  of  persecution 
to  be  systematic,  and  finding  it  impossible  to  be  alone,  or  to 
think,  our  visitor  resolves  to  be  resigned,  and  yields  him 
self  unmurmuring  to  the  guides.  With  a  vast  parade  of 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  35 

ceremony,  he  is  conducted  to  the  whispering  gallery,  where, 
of  course,  he  drops  a  sixpence ;  he  then  sees  the  library  for 
the  same  amount,  and  he  is  escorted  to  the  grand  tower  clock, 
where  another  sixpence  is  invested.  Thus  is  he  coaxed  from 
object  to  object,  and  story  to  story  of  the  building,  till  he 
finds  himself  at  the  top  of  the  dome,  out  of  breath  and  small 
change,  with  nothing  to  compensate  him  for  this  double  ex 
haustion,  except  dense  clouds  of  smoke,  with  the  black  tops 
of  tall  chimneys  occasionally  peering  through  them.  He 
consoles  himself  with  the  unsatisfactory  reflection  that  his 
lofty  situation  is,  at  least,  an  uncommonly  airy  one.  Suffer 
ing  has  made  him  philosophical ;  and,  with  panting  sides 
and  aching  knees,  he  counts  on  his  fingers  the  number  of 
bores  through  which  he  has  been  dragged  against  his  will ; 
and  for  what  ?  to  enable  the  English  government,  and  its 
mercenary  creatures,  legally  to  empty  his  pockets  of  all  the 
sixpences  they  happened  to  contain.  Not  satisfied  with  in 
terrupting  him,  whilst  attempting  to  enjoy  his  visit  to  the 
church  in  his  own  way,  these  active  allies  of  petty  extortion 
must  subject  him  to  the  excruciating  infliction  of  "  tower 
bells,"  "  whispering  galleries,"  and  "  libraries,"  which  a  man 
would  wonder  how  they  could  ever  consider  worthy  of  being 
shown  till  he  remembered  how  essential  they  were  to  the 
extraction  of  the  prescribed  quantity  of  small  coin  from  un 
suspecting  strangers.  In  this  instance,  the  sixpence  must 
have  been  a  joint-stock  operation, — Government  must  have 
quickened  the  zeal  of  its  minions,  by  allowing  them  a  small 
additional  commission  upon  the  amount  collected.  The  per 
severance  with  which  they  adhered  to  every  visitor  to  St. 
Paul's,  till  they  had  run  him  through  their  entire  routine, 
was  too  unwearying,  not  to  have  been  quickened  by  some 
pecuniary  inducement  of  the  sort.  But  how  could  a  reason 
able  man  complain  after  having  been  so  highly  edified  by 
the  extremely  interesting  objects  he  had  just  visited,  and 


36  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

when,  too,  he  must  have  felt  so  inexpressibly  indebted  to  tht 
polite  attentions  of  his  various  guides  in  pointing  them  out? 
The  view  from  the  summit  of  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  was 
somewhat  on  the  mysteriously  indistinct  order,  'tis  true,  but 
he  could  not  hold  his  accommodating  guides  responsible  for 
the  London  fog,  more  especially  as  they  had  afforded  him 
such  intense  gratification  in  the  bell  tower  and  whispering 
gallery. 

Superlatively  disgusted,  our  visitor  hurries  the  next 
day  for  consolation  to  the  Tower.  The  same  delays,  the 
same  annoyances,  and  the  same  petty  extortions  await  him, 
which  had  assailed  him  at  the  Abbey  and  St.  Paul's.  He 
sadly  yielded  to  the  conviction  that  the  English  government 
had,  with  the  wand  of  power,  thrown  up  a  small  circumvalla- 
tion  of  sixpences  around  him,  from  which  it  was  as  vain  to 
attempt  an  escape,  as  from  the  magical  circle  of  an  en 
chanter.  Destitute  of  the  energy  to  rail  at  such  interrupted 
persecution,  he  surrendered  himself  into  the  hands  of  his 
tormentors,  withont  a  hope,  or  even  a  wish  to  escape. 

There  is  perhaps  no  object  on  the  other  side  of  the  At 
lantic,  about  which  clusters  deeper,  or  more  varied  interest 
for  the  stranger,  than  the  Tower  of  London.  Its  fortunes 
have  been  so  eventful,  and  of  such  startling  contrast,  that  its 
simple  annals  possess  the  thrilling  interest  of  romance.  The 
curiosity  with  regard  to  it,  is  not  confined  to  a  single  class 
of  persons.  It  possesses  a  charm  for  all  ages  and  conditions. 
The  brilliant  and  bloody  pageants  which  have  been  enacted 
within  its  walls  and  its  fatal  green,  are  strangely  fascinating 
to  the  raw-head  and  bloody-bones  period  of  youthful  imagi 
nation,  whilst  its  long  and  intimate  connection  with  remark 
able  events  during  the  most  glorious  epochs  of  English 
history,  give  it  an  importance  in  the  eyes  of  maturer  years. 
Whether  we  study  it  whilst  flashing  with  splendor  as  the 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  37 

residence  of  a  great  monarch,  or  penetrate  its  gloom  when 
given  up  to  the  uses  of  a  prison,  the  same  intense  interest  per 
vades  the  story  of  its  fortunes.  Whilst  its  lofty  halls  have 
been  ringing  with  merriment  of  the  masques  and  mummeries 
of  a  court  ball,  the  sigh  of  some  lone  martyr  to  liberty  was 
smothered  in  the  damps  of  its  dungeons.  In  its  mysterious 
cabinets  ambition  was  born,  and  conquest  planned ;  in  its 
sombre  chambers  of  strong  bolts  and  grated  windows,  pined 
the  royal  prisoners  that  victory  gave.  What  strangely 
mingled  tales  its  old  walls  might  tell  of  splendor  and  mis 
ery,  glory  and  shame,  mirth  and  sorrow.  Its  lofty  turrets 
and  towers  may  be  justly  considered  the  archives  of  Bri 
tain.  On  its  mildewed  walls  and  creaking  portcullis  is 
written  the  social  history  of  the  English  people.  Yet  this 
hoary  pyramid  of  pride,  which  the  Conqueror  reared,  and 
his  successors  rendered  memorable  by  their  presence,  and 
their  deeds,  has  been  converted  to  purposes  that  an  old  barn 
might  answer  equally  as  well.  The  munificent  policy  by 
which  the  English  government  have  been  latterly  distin 
guished,  has  changed  this  ancient  stronghold,  so  replete  with 
records  of  which  England  might  boast,  into  a  common  ware 
house  for  the  lumber  and  rubbish  of  the  ordnance  depart 
ment.  To  subject  the  gloomy  old  pile  to  such  vile  uses,  is 
like  baiting  a  chained  lion  with  lapdogs — the  sport  is  as 
unworthy  those  engaged  in  it  as  the  unfortunate  victim. 

Light  is  now  excluded  from  those  elegant  apartments, 
which  once  blazed  with  all  the  magnificence  of  a  court,  for 
powder  has  usurped  the  place  of  kings,  and  the  gay  cour 
tiers  have  been  banished  by  lead.  Those  luxurious  cham 
bers,  where  many  an  antique  dandy  has  capered  "  to  the 
lascivious  pleasings  of  a  lute,"  are  now  stowed  with  the  bales 
and  barrels  of  government.  The  spider  weaves  his  web 
where  floated  the  gorgeous  tapestry  of  other  days.  And  the 
silence  of  those  lofty  corridors,  which  once  echoed  the  busy 


38  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

hum  of  a  royal  residence,  is  now  interrupted  only  by  the 
gambols  of  rats  that  have  taken  advantage  of  the  solitude. 

In  a  country  where  they  profess  to  respect  every  thing 
old,  and  where  any  thing  would  be  idolized  that  dates  back 
to  William  the  Conqueror ;  among  a  nation  who  estimate 
the  merits  of  men  and  wine  only  by  the  date  of  their  family 
and  the  time  of  its  vintage,  its  antiquity  alone  should 
have  protected  the  Tower.  But  money  is  stronger  than 
time  among  them.  Nothing  can  be  so  ennobled  by  the 
latter  that  the  former  cannot  purchase  its  honor.  No 
national  monument  is  respected  when  money  is  either  to  be 
made  or  saved  by  its  desecration.  To  avoid  the  invest 
ment  of  a  few  thousand  pounds  in  proper  arsenals  and  store 
houses,  the  stately  palace  of  England's  best  kings  has  been 
subjected  to  its  present  degradation.  Economy  is  as  hon 
orable  in  the  administration  of  governments,  as  it  is  desira 
ble  in  the  management  of  domestic  affairs.  But  are  such 
petty  savings  becoming  the  wealth  and  dignity  of  a  great 
nation  ?  Does  not  such  extreme  frugality  sink  into  parsi 
mony  ?  Is  it  not  more  sordid  than  prudent?  disgraceful 
rather  than  honorable  ? 

The  strength  of  these  massive  walls  and  frowning  towers 
— the  hoary  survivors  of  eight  centuries — are  only  admira 
ble  in  their  eyes  as  a  safe  means  of  protection  to  the  public 
stores.  The  airy  turrets,  and  picturesque  beauty  of  the 
White  Tower — rich  in  the  lore  that  Englishmen  should 
love  to  cherish — only  appear  interesting  in  their  eyes  when 
they  calculate  the  probable  amount  they  may  make  by  their 
exhibition.  Having  found  that  the  White  Tower  could  be 
made  more  profitable  as  a  showroom  than  as  a  warehouse, 
they  have  gotten  up  an  exhibition,  very  similar,  in  the  man 
ner  of  conducting  it,  to  that  of  the  Abbey.  They  charge 
sixpence — only  admit  visitors  in  parties — and  leave  them  at 
the  mercy  of  rude  guides,  just  as  they  do  at  the  Westmin 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  39 

ster.  The  only  difference  is  that  the  parties  must  consist 
of  fourteen  persons,  instead  of  seven,  and  that  the  guides 
dress  in  red,  instead  of  black. 

A  stranger,  on  entering  the  lowering  gateway,  is  stopped 
at  the  ticket-office.  "  Sixpence,  sir,"  remarks  the  doorkeeper, 
as  he  hands  him  his  ticket.  The  gentleman  pays  his  six 
pence,  and  is  moving  off,  when  he  is  stopped  by  "  Perhaps 
you  would  like  to  see  the  Crown  Jewels  and  Regalia  ?  " 
"Yes,  of  course  ;  I  wish  to  see  every  thing  that  is  shown." 
"  Oh,  very  well ;  sixpence  more,  please,"  as  he  hands  out 
another  ticket.  The  visitor  makes  a  new  application  to  his 
pocket,  and  again  moves  on,  when  the  doorkeeper  once  more 
shouts  after  him,  "  We  have  excellent  descriptions  of  the 
Tower,  will  you  take  one  ?  ':  The  visitor  stalks  solemnly 
back,  and  is  greeted  with,  ;-  Only  sixpence,  sir,"  as  he  re 
ceives  his  book,  and  pays  the  required  amount.  "  First  door 
on  the  right,"  observes  the  ticket-seller,  as  he  turns  to  a 
new  applicant.  This  sharp  individual,  presiding  over  the 
financial  department  of  the  Tower,  appears  to  practice  on 
the  homoeopathic  principle  of  making  his  charges  in  infinitesi- 
mally  broken  doses,  to  adapt  them,  no  doubt,  to  the  consti 
tutional  peculiarities  of  his  nation,  which  would  revolt  at 
the  enormous  charge  of  a  whole  shilling,  unless  artfully'  di 
vided  into  sixpences.  After  entering  "  the  first  door  on 
the  right,"  our  visitor  has  nothing  more  to  amuse  him,  until 
the  fourteen  are  assembled,  except  to  criticise  the  somewhat 
theatrical  costume  of  the  guides,  who  are  here  dignified  by 
the  title  of  "  Warders,"  and  to  ruminate  upon  the  very 
honorable  uses  the  English  people  make  of  the  advantages 
their  ancestors  have  conferred  upon  them:  Westminster 
and  the  Tower  for  instance.  How  can  he  entertain  very 
exalted  notions  of  England's  honor,  when  he  here  sees  it 
bartered  for  so  trifling  a  consideration  ?  How  can  he  respect 
Englishmen,  when  they  have  ceased  to  respect  themselves  ? 


40  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

In  paying  sixpence  to  see  the  Tower,  is  a  man  not  apt,  in 
spite  of  himself,  to  estimate  the  national  character  at  the 
same  cheap  rate  ? 

But  to  the  dress  of  the  warders.  It  consists  of  a  sur- 
coat  of  red  merino,  elaborately  dashed  with  black  velvet, 
and  set  off  by  a  low-crowned  black  hat,  of  outlandish  ap 
pearance,  which  is  said  to  complete  the  identical  uniform  of 
yeomen  of  the  guard,  under  Henry  VIII.  Their  honorable 
employers  certainly  displayed  rare  discrimination  in  rigging 
out  the  warders  in  the  livery  of  the  tyrant,  when  they  placed 
them  on  their  present  dirty  duty.  The  arbitrary  power, 
which  compels  the  nation  and  her  guests  to  pay  a  paltry 
sum  for  visiting  public  property,  like  the  Tower,  possesses 
all  the  meanness,  though  destitute  of  the  boldness,  which 
characterized  Henry's  outrages  against  the  people.  The 
surcoats  of  the  gentlemen  warders  are  rather  scant,  but 
certain  I  am  that  the  same  quantity  of  merino  never  covered 
an  equal  amount  of  ignorance  and  insolence  as  is  stowed 
away  beneath  each  blushing  uniform. 

English  officials  however,  are  invariably  impertinent,  from 
the  policeman  at  the  corner  to  the  minister  in  Downing- 
street.  They  all  appear  so  impressed  by  the  importance  of 
their  positions,  that  they  look  down  with  a  sort  of  lofty 
scorn  upon  the  rest  of  creation,  and  appearing  really  deluded 
into  the  belief  that  they  confer  a  favor  on  the  people  by 
accepting  their  offices,  they  pocket  their  money,  and  treat 
them  as  inferiors,  with  the  coolest  possible  condescension 
imaginable.  They  seem  strangely  to  mistake  their  functions, 
when,  in  becoming  the  servants  of  the  public,  they  consider 
it  incumbent  on  them  to  play  its  tyrants.  A  stranger  might 
suppose  them  paid  to  insult  rather  than  oblige  those  whom 
necessity  brings  into  contact  with  them  Englishmen  them 
selves  avoid  them,  arid  urgent  indeed  must  be  the  occasion 
which  could  induce  them  to  brave  the  unbearable  presump- 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  41 

tion  of  these  insolent  servitors.  Clothed  in  a  little  brief 
authority,  it  is  really  amazing  what  an  amount  of  arrogance 
and  rudeness  a  lowborn  Englishman  manages  suddenly  to 
get  up.  In  entering  upon  the  duties  of  an  office,  however 
contemptible,  they  appear  to  imagine  that  they  have  become 
integral  portions  of  a  haughty  government,  and  must  be  feared 
and  fawned  upon  accordingly.  In  donning  the  badge  of 
office,  they  always  assume  the  mysterious  official  air,  which, 
with  bent  brows  and  abstracted  gaze,  is  intended  to  intimate 
to  the  uninitiated  how  deeply  they  are  immersed  in  the  af 
fairs  of  the  nation.  Even  when  his  sole  duty  is  to  give  such 
information  to  the  public  as  may  be  required,  the  meanest 
official  will  reply  to  a  civil  question  with  monosyllabic  tart 
ness,  as  if  his  private  meditations  had  been  unwarrantably 
intruded  upon.  Indeed,  none  of  them  ever  condescend  to 
attend  to  the  business  of  their  offices,  without  a  supercilious 
air  of  doing  a  favor  instead  of  duty,  which  they  are  well 
paid  to  perform.  From  the  clerk  at  the  railway  depot  to 
the  secretary  of  the  office  where  a  man  is  compelled  to  go 
about  passports,  the  same  laconic  rudeness  is  observable.  I 
conceive  it  to  be  the  duty  of  a  government,  which  so  fre 
quently  demands  attendance  at  its  public  offices,  so  to  regu 
late  them  as  to  protect  not  only  its  own  subjects,  but 
strangers,  from  the  insults  of  these  impertinent  hirelings. 

The  party  of  fourteen  have  been  assembled.  We  are 
drawn  up  in  a  line,  and  undergo  a  brief  inspection  as  to  tick 
ets,  &c.,  when  our  fat  leader,  in  red,  places  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  column,  and  we  immediately  take  up  the  line  of 
march,  double-quick  time,  for  the  White  Tower.  We  make 
no  halts  on  the  way  to  admire  the  gloomy  portal — the  mas 
sive  walls,  fourteen  feet  thick,  and  the  deep  fosse,  which  is 
now  dry  j  we  pause  not  to  wonder  at  the  ponderous  oak 
doors,  and  rusty  portcullis  of  the  Traitor's  Gate,  but  are 
hurried  on  more  like  a  file  of  prisoners  for  the  dungeons  of 


42  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  Tower,  than  a  party  of  interesting  tourists,  each  one  of 
whom  had  paid  his  sixpence,  and  was  consequently  curious 
to  examine  all  that  presented  itself.  We  enter  the  White 
Tower  when  the  real  animation  of  the  proceedings  seems  but' 
just  commenced.  Our  guide  becomes  marvellously  lively  in 
his  movements,  and,  considering  the  tower-like  rotundity  of 
his  solid  person,  he  performed  feats  almost  miraculous.  How 
he  managed  to  keep  in  him  the  requisite  quantity  of  wind 
for  his  brisk  trot,  and  unceasing  flow  of  the  flat  jokes  and 
stale  information  with  which  he  regaled  us,  really  seemed  to 
me  one  of  the  most  curious  things  I  witnessed  in  the  Tower. 
Ours  was  a  breath-taking  speed.  In  fact,  if  each  one  of  us, 
on  entering,  had  been  mounted  on  one  of  the  plethoric-look 
ing  horses  composing  the  line  of  equestrian  figures  in  the 
armory,  we  could  noc  have  galloped  through  faster,  or  seen 
less,  than  under  the  direction  of  our  corpulent  guide.  In 
our  helter-skelter,  pell-mell,  devil-take-the-hindmost  sort  of 
race,  there  was  a  prolonged  flash  of  armor,  swords,  and 
lances — a. hideous  vision  of  instruments  of  torture,  and  droll 
implements  for  rendering  war  more  terrible,  by  mangling  its 
victims, — and  indistinct  phantoms  of  blocks  and  axes, — all 
dancing  about  Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  prison  apartment  in  in 
explicable  confusion,  when  we  were  suddenly  put  out,  as  hav 
ing  seen  a  sixpence  worth  of  the  Tower. 

Why  is  it,  I  demand  again,  if  government  will  persist  in 
charging  visitors  to  public  places  of  celebrity,  that  they  will 
not  charge  enough  to  render  the  style  of  getting  up  the  exhi 
bition  more  in  accordance  with  the  interest  of  the  objects,  and 
in  a  way  altogether  to  dispense  with  these  nuisances  of  guides 
who  at  present  infest  them  ?  Or  if  it  is  essential  to  their  own 
comfort  to  have  some  official  about  the  premises,  why  not 
make  the  price  of  admission  sufficiently  great  to  command 
the  services  of  men  of  intelligence,  who  might  materially 
assist  arid  enliven  the  visitor's  examination  of  the  objects  of 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  43 

curiosity  ?  Station  these  persons  in  the  armory  of  the  White 
Tower,  for  instance,  and  allow  the  intelligent  visitor  some 
opportunity  of  pausing  amidst  so  many  ancient  and  curious 
things  which  he  finds  worthy  of  study.  What  time  has  he 
during  the  peripatetic  discourse  of  nonsense  with  which  he 
is  now  inflicted,  to  examine  with  attention  a  single  object, 
or  indulge,  however  cursorily,  his  natural  curiosity  ?  Our 
warder  seemed  equally  put  out  in  his  rigmarole  by  pauses 
and  questions ;  so  he  paid  no  sort  of  attention  to  either. 
He  never  stopped  or  even  caught  his  breath  till  he  had  gotten 
through  with  us  and  his  story  together.  How  remarkably 
instructive,  as  well  as  interesting,  he  succeeded  in  making 
himself,  one  might  judge  from  the  following  example : 
'•'  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  this  is  a  suit  of  Aarmor  worn  by 
'Enry  the  JE/eighth."  Both  pieces  of  information  happened 
to  be  equally  superfluous,  as  the  name  of  Henry  VIII.  was 
written  above  the  figure  in  fair  Roman  characters,  and  the 
streaks  of  gold  were  very  plainly  visible  at  different  points 
of  the  harness.  Yet  he  delivered  himself  with  all  the  pomp 
ous  volubility  with  which  he  incidentally  made  the  startling 
announcement  to  the  company,  "  That  the  'orse  of  King 
'Enry  was  /^actually  much  given  to  /^eating  Aoats  to  7*ex- 
cess." 

But  so  long  as  the  English  government  is  directed  by  the 
present  catchpenny  policy,  it  will  be  too  greedy  to  abolish 
charges  altogether  at  Westminster,  St.  Paul's  and  the  Tow 
er,  and  too  timid  to  make  any  alterations  in  the  manner  of 
exhibiting  them.  The  guides,  at  all  the  places,  are  indispen 
sable  allies  in  the  present  system.  By  abolishing  these 
irresistible  propellers,  pauses  would  inevitably  occur,  which? 
by  allowing  a  visitor  some  opportunity  of  gratifying  his  cu 
riosity,  might  rob  the  exchequer  of  an  additional  sixpence, 
by  lessening  the  probability  of  his'  returning  for  a  second 
visit.  No  such  danger  must  be  incurred,  and  the  guides  aro 


44  ENGLISH    IT2MS. 

conseqcuntly  kept  in  active  requisition.  It  is  now  an  impor 
tant  part  of  their  duty,  like  the  donkey-boys  of  Egypt,  to 
keep  the  party  at  top  speed,  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  a 
visitor's  seeing  any  thing  with  sufficient  distinctness  to  make 
him  feel  satisfied  with  a  single  visit.  His  introductory  rush 
is  merely  intended  to  increase  his  desire  for  future  inspec 
tions.  As  much  as  I  disliked  to  become  a  victim  of  so  mis 
erable  a  conspiracy,  I  was  compelled  to  yield,  and  as  fast  as 
I  was  ejected,  I  went  back,  paid  another  sixpence,  and  wait 
ed  the  assembling  of  a  new  fourteen,  till  I  was  able  to  form 
some  conception  of  the  White  Tower.  It  was  my  only 
chance,  and  by  examining  a  little  each  time,  I  at  last  be 
came  somewhat  familiar  with  the  intensely  interesting  ob 
jects  in  the  horse  armory,  and  the  apartment  occupied  by 
Sir  Walter  llaleigh,  during  his  long  imprisonment.  But 
what  an  insufferable  bore  a  man  is  forced  to  submit  to,  be 
cause  the  English  gpvernment  have  not  the  liberality  to 
throw  open  these  celebrated  places  to  the  public  free  of 
charge,  and  yet  are  wanting  in  the  moral  courage  to  charge 
as  much  for  one  long  visit,  as  a  half-dozen  short  ones  cost. 

Englishmen  universally  object  to  the  haste  with  which 
an  American  takes  his  meals ;  a  dinner,  according  to  their 
authority,  is  something  to  be  lingered  over  with  toying  fond 
ness  ;  but  they  dispatch  the  refined  mental  enjoyment  of 
Westminster,  St.  Paul's,  and  the  Tower,  with  a  celerity  as 
tounding  even  to  us  go-ahead  Americans.  Their  extreme 
deliberation  at  the  dinner-table,  and  the  excessive  rapidity 
with  which  they  hurry  through  the  intellectual  feasts  spread 
at  these  celebrated  places,  decisively  indicate  how  vastly  nioro 
important  they  consider  the  gratification  of  the  belly  than  the 
mind.  It  is,  however,  a  happy  illustration  of  the  character  of 
the  people.  The  leopard  cannot  change  his  spots,  nor  the  Ethi 
opian  his  skin.  Their  innocent  ignorance,  that  a  man  could 
derive  any  sort  of  pleasure  from  mere  thought  and  associa- 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  45 

tion,  would  be  perhaps  a  much  better  apology  for  their  un 
seemly  manner  of  exhibiting  sacred  spots,  than  the  cheapness 
of  the  price  of  admission.  They  find  it  difficult  to  realize 
that  a  man  can  ever  require  less  substantial  food  than  roast- 
beef,  or  that  he  could  long  for  more  ethereal  inspiration  than 
a  bottle  of  porter.  They  appear  to  think  that  the  mind 
need  possess  no  higher  cultivation,  than  to  appreciate  an  ar 
tistically  cooked  dish ;  and  that  it  requires  no  more  inten 
sive  knowledge  than  to  find  the  way  to  market.  Between 
the  dinner-table  and  the  market-house,  an  Englishman's  high 
est  aspirations  continually  wander;  he  has  no  hope,  and 
knows  no  fear  beyond  them.  All  other  scenes  and  plans  are 
mere  accessories  to  these,  which  may  be  safely  pronounced 
the  fad  of  the  ellipse  in  which  rolls  his  existence. 

Better  would  it  be  for  the  honor  of  the  English  Nation, 
if  they  had  been  born  in  the  degradation,  as  they  are  endued 
with  the  propensities,  of  the  modern  Egyptians.  Brighter 
far  would  be  their  reputation  if  they  had  been  reared  to  cry 
"backsheesh"  to  each  passing  stranger,  rather  than  degrade 
those  monuments  of  glory,  received  from  their  ancestors,  into 
lasting  memorials  of  their  own  shame.  A  people  that  have 
grown  up  in  rags  and  ignorance,  are  pardonable  for  the  grov 
elling  instincts  of  wretchedness.  But  what  palliation  can 
be  offered  of  the  conduct  of  Great  Britain  ?  To  a  nation, 
whose  ostentatious  piety  sends  missionaries  into  the  remotest 
quarters  of  the  globe,  even  charity  refuses  an  apology,  for 
the  habitual  desecration  of  her  churches. 

The  very  advantages  which  wealth  and  power  have  con 
ferred  upon  her,  are  witnesses,  trumpet-tongued,  against  her 
baseness.  Is  such  an  example  to  the  rest  of  the  world  wor 
thy  the  enlightened  head  of  civilization  in  the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  century?  Does  the  golden  or  the  copper  age 
reign  in  England,  where  pelf  is  dearer  than  honor,  and  pence 
are  eagerly  received  in  exchange  for  reputation  ?  The  me- 


40  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

morials  of  munificence,  left  them  by  their  fathers,  have,  in 
their  hands,  become  the  testimony  which  convicts  them  of 
meanness. 

Want  often  reduces  pride  to  lowliness,  and  necessity 
will  sometimes  drive  the  noblest  natures  to  the  unworthicst 
practices.  It  would  be  lucky  for  England  if  she  had 
been  unfortunate ;  poverty  might  have  proved  her  salvation. 
But  with  wealth,  far  surpassing  that  of  every  other  country  in 
the  universe,  and  with  all  the  education  and  refinement  which 
that  wealth  could  bestow,  she  disgraces  the  high  position 
which  circumstances  have  conferred  upon  her,  in  mere  wan 
tonness  of  corruption.  Their  besotted  nature  would  excuse 
the  Hottentots,  even  in  the  eyes  of  the  most  censorious,  for 
bartering  away  the  priceless  mementoes  of  the  past  glories 
of  their  country.  We  do  but  pity  the  ignorance  of  the  boor, 
who  sold  for  a  few  florins  the  almost  invaluable  diamond 
lost  by  Charles  the  Bold  at  the  battle  of  Granson  ;  but  what 
feeling  of  sympathy  can  we  reserve  for  a  civilized  nation, 
anxious  to  sell  that  ';  immediate  jewel  of  their  souls."  their 
own  good  name?  What  anathemas  do  we  not  feel  tempted 
to  heap  on  the  heads  of  those  daily  engaged  in  the  traffic  of 
that  "purest  treasure  mortal  times  afford" — "spotless  repu 
tation." 

No  collection  of  curiosities  in  the  world  better  deserves 
its  name,  than  the  Zoological  Gardens  of  London.  In  the 
number  and  variety  of  animals,  they  greatly  surpass  the  far- 
famed  Jardin  dcs  Plantes  of  Paris.  No  more  extensive  or 
curious  field,  could  be  presented  to  the  study  of  the  natur 
alist  Every  zone  has  been  made  to  contribute  some  of  the 
rarest  denizens  of  its  savage  forests.  Every  species  of 
animal,  from  the  white  bear  of  the  polar  regions,  to  the 
giraffe  of  the  tropics,  is  so  arranged  in  the  same  extensive 
inclosures,  as  to  develope  more  of  their  native  pcculiaritie* 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  47 

than  in  any  other  menagerie  in  the  world.  Here  we  find  the 
seal  diving  for  his  fishy  meal,  the  hippopotamus  lazily  lolling 
in  his  quagmire,  and  the  elephant  as  quietly  suckling  her 
young,  as  if  none  of  them  had  ever  ceased  to  roam  in  their 
own  particular  element.  By  the  exquisitely  artistic  arrange 
ments,  which  wealth  and  science  have  united  to  make,  the 
tiger  is  cheated  of  his  jungle,  and  the  lioness  rears  her  cubs 
as  regularly  as  if  raging  in  her  own  native  deserts.  It 
would  be  impossible,  by  the  most  elaborate  description,  to 
afford  a  correct  idea  of  the  taste  and  elegance  displayed,  as 
well  in  the  arrangement  of  the  beasts,  as  in  the  adornment 
of  the  gardens  themselves.  We  find  cranes  slowly  wading 
their  ponds,  or  eagerly  watching  for  the  game  that  lurks  at 
its  bottom.  Here  all  the  rarer  and  more  exquisite  varieties 
of  water-fowl  are  seen,  with  their  downy  broods,  gayly  swim 
ming  in  lakes,  so  naturally  wild,  and  wildly  beautiful,  as  to 
make  them  forget  the  solitary  lagoons  'tis  their  nature  to 
frequent.  It  would  require  a  man  of  scientific  attainments 
in  natural  history,  properly  to  name  even  the  classes  of  the 
various  beasts,  birds,  and  reptiles,  composing  this  stupendous 
collection.  All  the  numerous  exhibitions  I  had  previously 
seen,  served  to  give  me  but  a  poor  idea  of  the  extent  and 
interest  of  this.  The  gardens  themselves,  which  are  very 
extensive,  are  rendered  charming  by  the  exquisite  arrange 
ment  of  mingled  grass-plots,  trees,  and  flowers,  which  en 
hance  the  beauty  of  the  place,  as  much  as  the  interest  of 
the  exhibition.  Every  thing  is  beautiful,  every  thing  grand 
and  munificent,  except  the  ruling  spirit  of  the  place.  The< 
Zoological  Gardens,  like  Westminster,  St.  Paul's,  and  the 
Tower,  are  under  the  control  of  the  English  Government, 
and  are  subjected  to  the  same  degradation.  "  The  trail  of 
the  serpent  is  over  them  all."  The  magnificence  displayed 
in  the  arrangement  of  the  gardens,  acts  like  a  microscope 
upon  the  meanness  of  reducing  the  nation  to  the  condition 


48  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

of  a  common  .showman  :  it  serves  to  expose  its  deformity  in 
all  its  hideousness.  If  the  Zoological  Gardens  really  be  a 
national  exhibition,  the  nation  certainly  possesses  the  right 
to  their  gratuitous  enjoyment.  But  no  !  the  government 
would  then  be  deprived  of  their  most  acceptable  occupation. 
They  basely  use,  without  permission,  the  authority  of  the 
people's  name,  to  make  them  sharers  in  a  disgrace  for  which 
they  alone  are  responsible.  A  stranger  in  paying  his  shilling 
for  admission  into  an  exhibition,  which  has  been  dubbed  "  na 
tional"  in  contradistinction  from  another  in  the  Surrey  Gar 
dens,  very  naturally  suspects  that  the  people  are  partners  in  this 
contemptible  transaction.  But  he  learns  with  astonishment 
that  they  are  fellow-sufferers  from  this  degrading  imposition. 
Many  countries  have  failed  properly  to  remunerate  their 
leaders  for  the  blessings  they  have  conferred  upon  them;  but 
the  English  people  are  compelled  to  pay  for  the  ignominy, 
with  which  their  despotic  rulers  have  loaded  them. 

How  marked  is  the  contrast  existing  between  the  course 
of  England,  and  the  jealous  care  with  which  ^France  pre 
serves  her  national  integrity.  In  Paris  every  institution  of 
learning  and  science,  all  galleries  of  fine  arts,  and  places  of 
amusement,  except  the  theatres,  are  thrown  generously  open 
to  the  public.  In  making  them  national,  France  has  made 
them  free.  She  justly  considers  it  a  stain  upon  her  honor, 
to  degrade  her  great  public  institutions  into  mean  sources 
of  gain.  She  rightly  believes  it  beneath  the  dignity  of  a 
powerful  government,  to  demand  pecuniary  rewards  for  ser 
vices  rendered  to  its  subjects.  She  seems  happily  aware  of 
the  distinction  between  the  munificence  of  a  nation,  and  the 
necessities  of  an  individual.  She  appears  to  feel  that  though 
a  citizen  may  get  up  an  exhibition,  without  loss  of  honor,  a 
nation  cannot  play  the  showman,  without  disgrace.  There  is 
no  branch  of  science — no  description  of  literature,  which  a 
man  is  desirous  of  pursuing,  that  he  cannot  accomplish,  free 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  49 

of  charge,  in  the  celebrated  institutions  of  Paris.  The 
enlightened  spirit,  which  erected  the  colleges,  has  nobly 
thrown  open  their  doors  to  all  classes  of  citizens.  The  pub 
lic  galleries,  enriched  by  master-pieces  of  all  the  celebrated 
painters  and  sculptors  of  the  world,  are  gratuitously  opened 
to  the  humblest  individual,  whose  taste  may  incline  to  the 
enjoyment  of  works  of  art.  There  is  no  learned  investiga 
tion,  which  a  man  may  have  occasion  to  make,  in  which  he 
will  not  be  facilitated,  without  cost,  by  the  intelligent 
officials,  whom  the  government  has  stationed  in  the  public 
libraries.  And  every  grotesque  Frenchman  is  allowed  to 
enjoy,  as  long  as  he  pleases,  the  antics  of  the  monkeys  in 
the  "  Jardine  des  Planted  without  previously  paying  a  franc 
for  admission  at  the  gate. 

Would  not  the  English  do  well  to  take  a  few  hints  from 
their  neighbors,  in  their  management  of  the  Zoological  Gar 
dens  ?  If  the  government  of  the  wealthiest  country  in  the 
world  cannot  really  afford  to  lose  the  trifling  revenue,  aris 
ing  from  this  public  promenade,  why  not  farm  the  gardens 
out  to  a  company,  instead  of  stooping  to  play  the  showman 
themselves?  Such  an  arrangement  would  necessarily  in 
volve  a  division  of  profits,  which  the  sordid  nature  of  Eng 
lishmen  could  not  be  persuaded  to  submit  to,  though  they 
should  be  allowed  to  reserve  the  lion's  share  of  the  spoils. 
But  the  genius  of  the  English  government  appears  so  happily 
adapted  to  the  routine  of  a  petty  showman,  it  would  be  a 
pity  not  to  go  through  it.  They  are  conscious  of  excelling 
in  small  exhibitions,  and  consequently  delight  in  them. 
From  the  Fire  Tower,  to  the  Great  Show  of  all  nations, 
their  pre-eminence  in  this  line  is  truly  remarkable.  They 
have  the  despicable  vanity  to  feel  proud  of  this  accomplish 
ment,  and  are  eager  for  its  display.  They  seem  to  think, 
that  success  in  this  very  honorable  ambition  culls  fresh 
laurels  for  the  wreathes  that  Shakspeare  has  woven,  and 
3 


50  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Milton  twined ;  they  seem  deluded  into  the  belief  that  the 
inimitable  skill  they  display  in  twopenny  exhibitions,  adds 
to  the  glory  of  the  nation  for  which  Nelson  struggled  and 
Wellington  fought. 

But  the  apex  of  'national  turpitude  is  the  charge  of  six 
pence  for  the  privilege  of  visiting  Chelsea  Hospital,  for  old 
soldiers.  According  to  the  established  rules,  at  Chelsea, 
the  payer  of  sixpence  is  shown  through  the  refectories,  the 
dormitories,  and  smoking-rooms  of  the  veterans — this  is  all 
well  enough.  But  when  it  is  remembered,  that  the  payment 
of  this  paltry  coin  confers  the  right  of  invading  the  sick 
wards ;  of  disturbing  the  suffering  invalids,  by  impertinent 
questions,  and  rude  examinations  of  themselves  and  their 
beds,  the  hardest  heart  is  moved. 

Even  charity,  which  should  purely  shine  in  the  soul,  like 
dew  in  flowers,  becomes  in  the  hands  of  Englishmen  a  black- 
grained  spot  on  their  honor.  Grudging  the  pittance  of  a 
shilling  a  month  to  the  weather-beaten  remnants  of  these 
once  sturdy  defenders  of  their  country — the  government 
basely  make  their  wounds  and  their  hardships  a  catchpenny 
show  for  the  multitude.  Any  nation  of  atheists  might  make 
the  churches,  built  in  the  hated  days  of  belief,  a  source  of 
profit ; — sordid  barbarians  might  degrade  the  wonderful 
monuments  of  their  more  civilized  ancestors,  by  charging 
visitors  to  see  them, — but  to  drag  from  their  lowly  retreat 
these  maimed  and  shattered  victims  of  national  ambition,  to 
be  stared  and  wondered  at,  like  caged  beasts,  is  an  outrage 
against  humanity,  that  even  savages  would  shrink  from. 
This  is  a  deed  kindly  reserved,  as  the  crowning  glory  of  the 
enlightened  Britons  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Nell  Gwin,  who  suggested,  and  her  Royal  Profligate  who 
founded  this  asylum  for  old  soldiers,  would  have  been 
shocked  by  Mich  a  proposition,  embarrassed  as  they  often 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  51 

were  in  their  circumstances.  For  "  pretty  witty  Nelly"  and 
the  Merry  Monarch  were  not  wholly  lost  to  all  the  kindlier 
feelings  of  the  human  heart,  reckless  as  the  careers  of  both 
had  been.  Nell  was  truly  charitable,  and  Charles  was  so, 
after  a  fashion  of  his  own,  great  as  their  faults  undoubtedly 
were  ;  and  either  one  of  them  would  have  scorned  so  revolt 
ing  a  means  to  raise  money,  however  sadly  in  want  of  it 
hey  might  have  been.  It  remained  for  the  boastful  country 
men  of  Chaucer  and  Spenser,  Shakspeare  and  Milton,  to 
commit,  under  the  name  of  charity, — an  outrage,  which  they 
alone  were  capable  of  conceiving.  They  may  at  least  exult 
in  the  consciousness  that  theirs  is  no  ordinary  baseness. 
If  it  be  their  ambition  to  excel  in  this  quality,  they  cer 
tainly  have  reason  to  feel  satisfied  with  their  success. 

The  valor  with  which  these  disabled  veterans  had,  in 
their  youth,  defended  the  government,  ought  surely  to  have 
secured  to  them  a  quiet  refuge  for  their  age.  But  past  ser 
vices  are  never  remembered  by  the  heartless,  'tis  only  the 
hope  of  future  profit  that  quickens  their  charity.  Coming 
into  the  world  as  proper  food  for  powder,  these  poor  old  fel 
lows  should  have  felt  only  too  much  delighted  to  compound 
with  fate,  by  becoming  inmates  of  the  Chelsea  Hospital, 
instead  of  some  ditch  on  the  Continent.  Besides,  govern 
ment  had  given  over  fifteen  millions  of  dollars  to  the  Duke 
of  Wellington, — and  they  should  have  felt  more  than  satisfied 
in  hearing  of  the  rewards  of  their  commander.  What  more 
could  they  expect  from  their  country?  The  obscurity  of 
their  origin  had  placed  them  beyond  the  pale  of  British 
charity — cringing  to  the  great — obsequious  to  the  high — the 
dwarfed  souls  of  Englishmen  have  no  wide-extending  sympa 
thy  for  the  humble — no  soothing  pity  for  the  lowly.  In 
their  eyes  poverty  is  crime, — and  wretchedness  deserves  its 
sufferings  for  having  been  guilty  of  the  sin  of  being  poor. 


52  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Our  be-sixpenced  traveller  flies  in  disgust  from  the 
Zoological  Gardens  to  Chatsworth.  But  how  suddenly  are 
;ill  his  magnificent  notions  of  luxurious  profusion,  and 
generous  hospitality  put  to  flight,  when  he  is  met  at  the 
gate  by  the  same  significant  extension  of  the  hand,  which 
experience  has  taught  him  means  no  polite  welcome,  but  a 
new  demand  on  his  purse.  It  requires  but  a  few  weeks' 
residence  in  the  country  to  convince  him,  that  an  Englishman 
rarely  ever  extends  his  hand  to  a  stranger,  unless  it  is  to  put 
it  into  his  pocket.  But  this  all  classes  make  it  a  rule  to  do, 
as  often,  and  as  deeply,  as  the  loosest  interpretation  of  the 
laws  will  permit  without  their  incurring  the  danger  of  being 
indicted  as  pickpockets. 

I  never  was  able  fully  to  realize  what  splendid  triumphs 
wealth  was  capable  of,  when  directed  by  taste,  till  I  visited 
Chatsworth.  It  must  seem  wonderful,  even  to  those  accus 
tomed  to  the  profusion  of  monarchical  governments,  that  a 
subject  should  dwell  in  a  palace  so  gorgeous.  Chatsworth 
is  worthy  of  the  enterprise  which  has  constructed  a  branch 
railroad  leading  to  Rowsley,  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
crowds  of  visitors,  eager  to  see  the  magnificence  of  the  man 
sion,  and  wander  amidst  the  surpassing  beauties  of  the 
grounds.  The  showy  magnificence  of  Chatsworth  and  Blen 
heim,  and  the  gloomy  grandeur  of  Warwick  and  Alinrick 
castles,  serve  to  remind  us.  like  the  glittering  shell  of  the 
tortoise,  what  worthless  and  insignificant  animals  often 
inhabit  the  most  splendid  mansions. 

In  all  my  wanderings  I  have  never  seen  any  thing  which 
approached  this  beautiful  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire. 
The  rigid  avenues,  and  spruce  flower-beds  of  Versailles — the 
floral  charms  of  the  Italian  villas,  and  even  the  varied 
attractions  of  Windsor  and  Hampton  Court  themselves, 
must  yield  in  beauty  to  the  countless  fascinations  of  Chats- 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  53 

worth.  To  throw  open  so  superb  an  estate  for  the  free 
enjoyment  of  the  public,  seems  most  munificent.  But  this 
munificence  sinks  into  meanness,  when  it  is  remembered  that 
His  Grace  receives  a  fee  of  admission  from  his  visitors.  Such 
a  proceeding  on  the  part  of  a  nobleman,  whose  income  ex-./ 
ceeds  $5.000  a  day,  must  satisfactorily  demonstrate  to  every 
mind,  that  though  an  Englishman  may  have  the  pride  to 
attempt  a  magnificent  scheme,  he  lacks  the  generosity  to 
carry  it  out.  Ostentation  suggested  to  the  Duke  a  course 
as  princely  as  his  income,  but  that  cohesive  sympathy  exist 
ing  between  a  Briton's  fingers  and  ha'pence,  chafed  parsi 
mony  into  reminding  him,  that  he  might  appear  profuse 
and  yet  save  money  by  the  operation.  In  his  eagerness  to 
adopt  the  suggestion,  he  forgot  the  first  principle  in  moral 
philosophy,  that  the  intention  with  which  a  deed  is  done, 
and  not  the  deed  itself,  determines  its  degree  of  virtue.  In 
his  course  at  Chatsworth,  he  debases  the  spirit,  whilst  he 
retains  the  form  of  a  noble  action.  This  regal  display  of 
hospitality  is  made  a  cloak  for  the  low  cunning  of  a  showman. 
For  he  is  well  aware,  that  this  flaming  announcement  of 
Chatsworth's  being  thrown  open  to  the  public,  like  the 
charity  of  Jenny  Lind,  is  well  calculated  to  increase  the 
general  curiosity.  He  confirms  his  nationality,  by  being 
mean  whilst  professing  to  be  sumptuous.  He  pretends  to 
open  his  gorgeous  palace  for  the  amusement  of  the  public, 
but  takes  good  care  to  station  a  doorkeeper  to  collect  the 
fees  of  admission  to  its  different  departments.  And  yet  he 
would  no  doubt  be  very  reluctant  frankly  to  confess  to  the 
world,  that  although  he  had  the  vanity  to  affect  liberality, 
he  was  too  penurious  to  bear  the  expense  of  it.  Like  the 
ostrich,  he  sticks  his  head  in  the  sand,  and  imagines  himself 
in  the  profoundest  concealment.  He  seems  deluded  by  the 
hope  that  the  basest  counterfeit,  emanating  from  a  personage 
of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire's  rank,  must  pass  current — and 


54  KNOLISH    ITEMS. 

that  this  affected  display  of  public  hospitality  must  inevi 
tably  establish  his  reputation  for  generosity.  Happy  in  the 
fancied  success  of  a  deception,  which  he  has  only  been  able 
to  practise  upon  himself,  this  silly  noble  struts  about  with 
the  airs  and  pretension  of  the  petted  favorite  of  the  king 
dom.  He  clearly  manifests  the  opinion  he  entertains  of  the 
intelligence  of  the  English  people,  in  supposing  them  capable 
of  being  imposed  on  by  so  shallow  an  artifice.  The  melan 
choly  folly  of  such  vanity  can  only  be  injurious  to  himself. 
People  pity  him  too  much  to  despise  him. 

I  mean  not  to  intimate  that  any  portion  of  the  large 
amounts  collected  at  the  doors  of  Chatsworth  actually  goes 
into  the  pockets  of  His  Grace.  But  they  are,  nevertheless, 
remarkably  convenient  in  defraying  the  expense  of  a  large 
household  of  servants.  The  Duke  owns  besides  Chatsworth, 
Hardwick  Hall,  Bolton  Abbey,  Lismore  Castle,  Devonshire 
House,  and  Chiswick,  the  large  establishments  of  all  of 
which  magnificent  seats  must  be  maintained  in  a  style  be 
coming  his  rank  and  enormous  fortune.  The  opportunity, 
afforded  by  the  unsurpassed  attractions  of  Chatsworth  to 
get  rid  of  the  expense  of  one  of  them,  was  much  too  tempt 
ing  to  be  resisted  by  a  native  of  His  Grace's  country — he 
therefore  sullies  a  noble  name  to  add  a  few  paltry  pounds 
to  a  fortune  which  is  eventually  to  be  enjoyed  by  strangers. 
No  foreigner  would  hesitate  at  half-a-crown,  and  not  man}T 
Englishmen  would  grumble  at  sixpence,  as  a  gratuity  to  the 
different  servants  showing  them  through  the  house  and 
grounds — so  trifling  a  remuneration  only  becomes  offensive 
when  it  is  demanded  as  a  right.  No  one  could  consider  the 
amount  oppressive  :  on  the  contrary,  all  must  acknowledge 
the  show  to  be  a  remarkably  cheap  one  ;  but  'tis  the  sordid 
principle  that  so  offends  every  enlightened  feeling.  The 
idea  of  a  private  gentleman,  of  wealth  and  rank,  deriving  a 
profit  from  the  exhibition  of  his  grounds,  must  be  equally  re- 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  55 

volting  to  all  classes.  In  such  a  course  there  is  so  glaring 
a  violation  of  propriety,  that  the  meanest  cannot  fail  to  dis 
cover  it. 

The  highly  acquisitive  disposition  of  the  Duke  appears 
to  be  a  birthright ;  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury,  the  founder 
of  the  family,  having  turned  her  great  beauty  to  some  ac 
count,  in  marrying  four  rich  husbands,  and  prevailing  on  all 
of  them  to  settle  their  fine  estates  on  her,  and  her  heirs  for 
ever.  In  this  judicious  arrangement,  the  large  fortunes  of 
Robert  Barlow  of  Barlow,  Sir  William  Cavendish,  Sir  Wil 
liam  St.  Loe,  and  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  were  all,  by  the 
fascinations  of  Miss  Elizabeth  Hardwick,  amalgamated  into 
one  overgrown  estate,  for  the  future  Dukes  of  Devonshire. 
She  had  an  heir  by  Sir  William  Cavendish,  from  whom  the 
family  are  descended.  William  the  fourth  Earl  of  Devon 
shire  was  created  a  Duke  by  William  III.,  as  a  reward  for 
his  treachery  to  the  reigning  sovereign ;  and  the  present 
Duke  seems  to  consider  it  impossible  farther  to  degrade  a 
title  acquired  in  such  a  way. 

But  the  unworthiness  of  its  owner  cannot  mar  the  un 
rivalled  elegance  of  Chatsworth.  Ogres  have  often  before 
been  known  to  dwell  in  enchanted  castles  of  fairy  propor 
tions.  The  exterior  of  the  mansion  is  rendered  impressive 
by  a  graceful  facade  of  Ionic  columns  ;  its  interior  is  crowded 
with  every  thing  that  luxury  could  suggest,  or  wealth  supply. 
Its  ceilings  are  adorned  with  the  brilliant  frescoes  of  Verrio, 
and  Sir  James  Thornhill ;  its  rooms  of  state  are  hung  with 
the  finest  specimens  of  Goblin  tapestry.  The  walls  of  its 
picture  galleries  are  filled  with  works  by  the  old  masters ; 
and  among  them  is  Landseer's  famous  Bolton  Abbey,  ex 
hibiting  more  breathing  animation,  and  fuller  of  genius  than 
any  modern  picture  I  have  ever  seen.  Here,  too,  are  to  be 
met  with  many  exquisite  specimens  of  female  loveliness,  in 
the  peculiar  floating  and  voluptuous  style  of  Sir  Thomas 


56  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Lawrence.  In  the  elegant  collection  of  statuary  may  be 
numbered  pieces  by  Canova,  Thorwaldsen,  Westmacott,  and 
Tanerani,  the  best  of  living  Italian  artists.  Opening  from 
this  exquisite  gallery  is  the  orangery,  made  poetically  at 
tractive  by  the  rare  exotics,  statues,  and  birds,  that  divide 
ttie  attention.  Many  of  the  superb  apartments  are  rendered 
doubly  interesting  by  the  extraordinany  carvings  in  wood, 
by  Gibbons.  It  is  wonderful  to  study  the  exquisite  grace, 
and  lightness,  which  he  has  imparted  to  his  fruit  and  flowers. 
The  turn  of  a  leaf  or  the  delicacy  of  a  flower  arc  as  divinely 
given,  as  if  things  cut  in  wood  were  not  proverbial  com 
parisons  for  all  that  is  stiff  and  ungainly.  It  would  be  im 
possible  to  conceive  of  the  inimitable  naturalness  which  he 
has  succeeded  in  throwing  into  the  relaxed  limbs  and  droop 
ing  wings  of  dead  hares  and  partridges — even  the  distended 
gills  of  fish  are  represented,  with  a  delicate  success,  that 
painting  itself  would  fail  to  equal. 

But  the  grounds  present  the  highest' claims  to  beauty. 
In  no  country  in  the  wrorld  do  the  trees  seem  more  coolly 
shady,  or  docs  the  grass  look  greener  than  in  England.  The 
humid  climate  appears  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  develop 
ment  of  all  their  beauties  in  these  greatest  ornaments  of  na 
ture.  A  man  cannot  know  the  delicious  charms  of  the  Eng 
lish  greensward — so  fresh,  so  dark,  so  closely  cut  and  carefully 
swept  that  it  may,  even  in  prose,  be  said  to  look  like  a  green 
velvet  carpet — till  he  has  rolled  on  it,  under  the  thick  shade 
of  the  drooping  elms.  A  poet  would  fail  to  do  it  justice  in 
his  happiest  description.  The  grassplots  of  Chatsworth  arc 
tastefully  broken  by  lakes,  fountains,  and  flower-gardens,  and 
from  these  you  could  wander  away  down  the  shady  avenues 
of  fine  old  trees,  whose  rustling  leaves  would  whisper  to  you 
nothing  but  the  poetic  legends  of  the  past.  The  luxurious 
softness  of  this  portion  of  the  landscape  is  strongly  con 
trasted  with  the  wild,  almost  savage  nature  of  the  scenery 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  57 

beyond.  From  a  lofty  crag  in  the  distance,  made  pictu 
resque  by  crowning  firs  and  rocky  pinnacles,  a  waterfall  foams 
and  tumbles  with  the  roar  and  precipitation  of  some  mountain 
torrent  in  Switzerland.  Still  farther  off  is  a  small  cascade, 
whose  shadowy  stream,  undulating  as  it  pours  down  the  bare 
side  of  the  cliff,  looks  like  some  delicate  veil  of  silver  tissue, 
gently  stirred  by  the  lazy  summer  winds.  The  soft  realms 
of  beauty,  in  which  greensward  and  flowers  contend  for  the 
mastery,  cease  at  the  banks  of  the  river,  which,  on  the  other 
side  from  the  waterfall,  winds  in  graceful  curves  far  as  the 
eye  can  reach  through  the  sunny  meadow-land.  The  farther 
banks  of  the  silent  stream  slowly  rise  into  gentle  elevations, 
shaded  here  and  there  with  clumps  of  scrubby  oaks,  beneath 
whose  shadow  crouch  whole  herds  of  dozing  deer.  When 
wearied  with  this  warmly  glowing  picture,  the  visitor  turns 
his  footsteps  towards  the  famous  conservatory,  of  which 
everybody  has  heard  so  much,  and  passing  beneath  some 
thick  trees  he  suddenly  finds  himself  in  the  loneliest  of  wild 
scenes.  Huge  masses  of  rocks,  now  gray  and  moss-grown, 
and  often  half  concealed  with  flowering  mountain  shrubs, 
have  been  so  artfully  piled,  that  one  is  reluctant  to  doubt 
that  nature  has  placed  them  there.  The  effect  of  suddenly 
issuing  from  a  spot,  smiling  with  the  rarest  cultivation,  into  a 
scene  so  rugged,  was  delightful  in  the  extreme.  He  pauses  to 
watch  the  merry  gambols  of  a  noisy  little  brook,  that  comes 
bounding  and  pitching  towards  him  as  it  chafes  into  foam 
against  the  rocks  that  obstruct  its  course.  As  it  nears  the 
spot  where  he  stands,  it  rolls  more  calmly  over  its  shiny 
pebble  bed.  muttering  its  complaints  against  the  roughness 
of  its  recent  encounter  with  the  rocks,  in  a  low  babble  full 
of  melody.  It  steals  on  through  banks  of  freshest  verdure, 
gemmed  with  wild  violets,  whose  perfume  fills  the  air  ;  its 
murmurs  cease,  its  course  is  almost  stilled,  and  it  lingers  as 
if  enamored  of  so  sweet  a  lurking-place.  Then  it  goes 
3* 


58  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

creeping  and  peering  among  the  tall  water-lilios,  whose  nod 
ding  blooms  of  white  seem  laughingly  to  reprove  the  tru 
ant  stream.  Again  dashing  away  among  the  projecting 
rocks,  whose  mossy  points  are  more  than  half  concealed  by 
the  purple  clusters  of  the  rhododendrons,  and  the  delicate 
flowers  of  the  mountain  laurel,  our  brook  goes  rejoicing  on 
its  way,  skipping,  wheeling,  and  dodging,  as  if  in  a  game  of 
hide  and  seek  with  the  delighted  traveller.  Once  more  it 
calmly  glides  into  the  broad  open  space,  silent,  as  if  in  the 
ineffable  joy  of  being  so  near  the  end  of  its  varied  pilgrim 
age.  Slowly  it  moves  along,  and  finally  sinks  upon  the 
bosom  of  the  expectant  lake,  without  disturbing  •  the  glassy 
stillness  of  its  surface,  which  is  only  broken  by  some  playful 
carp,  that  occasionally  bounds  into  the  soft  summer  air. 

The  great  conservatory  is  perhaps  the  greatest  wonder  of 
the  whole  establishment,  although  the  one  we  are  most  famil 
iar  with.  On  his  way  thither  the  visitor  passes  innumerable 
fountains  of  various  designs  ;  among  them  is  the  highest  jet 
of  water  in  Europe,  and  a  fantastic  weeping  willow  of 
bronze,  which  scatters  around  the  most  refreshing  showers, 
from  every  leaf  and  twig.  He  must  also  pause  to  admire 
the  grand  cascade,  which,  issuing  from  a  temple-like  struc 
ture  on  the  hill,  rolls  down  a  long  succession  of  marble 
steps,  dashing  its  spray  upon  the  antique  vases  and  statues 
with  which  they  are  adorned.  The  conservatory,  which  pre 
vious  to  the  erection  of  the  Crystal  Palace  was  the  largest 
structure  of  its  kind  in  the  world,  has  a  carriage  road 
through  its  midst,  and  measures  276  feet  one  way,  and  123 
the  other.  It  looks  like  two  vast  domes  of  rounding  oblong, 
rather  than  circular  form,  piled  one  upon  the  other — has  67 
feet  of  height  in  its  central  arched  roof  and  a  span  of  70 
feet,  and  contains  more  than  70.000  square  feet  of  glass. 
In  its  vast  collection  are  assembled  all  the  rarer  and  more 
beautiful  plants  from  the  sunny  climes  of  the  East  and 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  59 

South.  The  bristling  cocoanut,  the  clustering  banana,  and 
the  unsightly  date,  are  the  stateliest  specimens  of  these  curi 
ous  representatives  of  the  tropics.  Does  it  not  seem  strange 
that  a  man,  residing  amidst  a  scene  of  surpassing  grandeur 
and  beauty,  should  fail  to  imbibe  some  elevation  of  spirit 
from  surrounding  nature  ?  Does  it  not  appear  extraor 
dinary  that  a  man,  dwelling  in  a  spot  of  such  fairy  loveli 
ness,  should  retain,  and  indulge  the  most  grovelling  in 
stincts  of  human  nature's  lowest  grade  ? 

Up  to  as  late  a  date  as  1834.  the  English  game  laws  ex 
isted  in  a  form  to  embody  all  the  rigor  and  injustice  of  the 
Forest  Laws,  presenting  but  this  solitary  difference,  that  the 
former  were  maintained  for  the  amusement  of  four  hundred 
tyrants,  whilst  the  latter  were  enacted  for  the  gratification 
of  a  single  despot.  By  the  extraordinary  legislation  of 
these  titled  lawgivers  of  England,  game  was  rendered  more 
sacred  and  inviolate  than  property.  These  sporting  Lycur- 
guses  arbitrarily  selected  certain  beasts  of  the  field  and 
fowls  of  the  air,  and  made  it  highly  criminal  in  any  "  base- 
born  person "  "  to  kill  them,  or  eat  them,  or  buy  them,  or 
sell  them,  or  carry  them,  or  to  have  in  his  possession  any  en 
gine  or  instrument,  by  which  they  might  be  slain,  maimed, 
or  injured."  Nobody  but  a  qualified  person  could  amuse 
himself  by  a  shot  at  a  partridge  or  hare.  A  rich  merchant 
or  manufacturer  might  own  land,  and  give  employment  to 
thousands  of  laborers,  but  his  wealth  being  base,  he  enjoyed 
no  right  to  interfere  with  the  aristocratic  pleasures  of  his 
noble  betters.  Woodcocks,  pheasants,  partridges,  and  hares, 
were  delicacies  which  he  was  forbidden  even  to  taste.  The 
sages  of  the  King's  Bench  finally  ruled  that  "  a  qualified 
person  might  take  out  a  tradesman,  stock-broker,  clothier, 
attorney,  surgeon,  or  other  inferior  person,  to  beat  the 
bushes,  and  see  a  hare  killed,  without  being  liable  to  to  pen- 


60  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

alty."  But  woe  to  the  unlucky  wight  who  took  a  private 
shot  on  his  own  account,  but  could  not  attach  some  noble 
title  to  his  name.  Nobility  was  a  qualification  absolutely 
essential  to  a  man's  becoming  a  shooter.  All  unqualified 
persons  were  not  only  denied  the  amusement  of  killing 
game,  but  they  were  not  allowed  the  privilege  of  buying  of 
those  who  were.  The  "  game "  flavor  of  partridges  and 
hares  was  not  to  be  tainted,  by  passing  through  the  unqual 
ified  hands  of  chapmen  and  higglers.  Their  aristocratic 
qualities  were  not  to  be  destroyed  by  being  retailed,  like 
ale  and  dipped  candles,  by  tradespeople.  "Victuallers, 
poulterers,  pastry  cooks,  and  other  mean  persons  should  not 
carry  game  nor  have  it  in  possession."  If  an  unqualified 
person  were  suspected  of  having  game,  or  any  clog,  gun,  or 
snare  for  killing  or  wounding  it,  his  house  might  be  searched, 
and  if  any  net,  or  snare,  pheasant,  partridge,  fish,  fowl,  or 
other  game  were  found,  the  offender  might  be  forthwith  car 
ried  before  a  justice,  and  fined,  or  sent  to  the  House  of  Cor 
rection,  and  there  whipped,  and  kept  to  hard  labor."  "  If  a 
man  only  happened  to  spoil  or  tread  on  an  egg  of  a  par 
tridge,  pheasant,  mallard,  teal,  bittern,  or  heron,  he  was 
fined  or  imprisoned."  "  But  if  he  went  forth  in  the  night 
for  the  third  time,  with  the  full  intent  of  catching  an  aristo 
crat  bird,  coney,  or  other  game,  he  was  transported  beyond 
the  seas  for  seven  years."  Notwithstanding  these  absurd 
restrictions,  and  severe  enactments  against  the  disturbance 
of  privileged  birds,  by  unqualified  persons,  it  was  discovered 
by  a  committee  of  the  House  of  Lords  in  1828,  that  game 
was  as  regular  an  article  for  sale  in  all  the  markets  of  Lon 
don.  as  any  other  commodity.  One  salesman  alone  sold  500 
head  of  game  in  a  week.  It  was  impossible  for  their  Lord 
ships  longer  to  pretend  ignorance  of  a  fart  they  had  long 
been  aware  of.  They  therefore  found  it  necessary  to  make 
the  astounding  discovery,  that  the  noble  Lords  themselves 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  61 

must  be  the  principal  offenders  in  this  illicit  but  profitable 
traffic  in  game. 

Game  had  been  up  to  this  period  like  the  national  honor 
— something  for  whose  preservation  every  idle  upstart  felt 
himself  personally  responsible.  All  classes  of  society  united 
in  regarding  with  becoming  horror  the  unpardonable  sin  of 
poaching ;  and  the  antipathy  to  poachers  was  as  universal, 
among  the  descendants  of  Mother  Eve  by  the  English  line, 
as  the  hatred  of  snakes  is  supposed  to  be  natural  to  her  pos 
terity  generally.  Not  even  the  example  of  the  illustrious 
Bard  of  Avon  could  elevate  the  nocturnal  forages  of  the 
poacher,  into  being  placed  in  the  same  category  with  the 
dashing  exploits  of  Captain  McHeath.  or  bold  Dick  Turpin. 
Faithful  serving-men,  in  expectancy  of  pensions,  ingratiated 
themselves  with  their  masters,  by  midnight  prowlings  after 
poachers.  Ignorant  country  magistrates  displayed  their 
zealous  inefficiency  in  committing  all  suspected  persons  for 
trial.  Rollicking  Squires,  the  Sir  Rotgut  Wildfires  of  the 
country,  won  easy  reputations  as  public-spirited  individuals, 
by  their  blustering  protection  of  "  game  ;"  and  the  county 
assizes  never  considered  their  docket  complete,  unless  some 
unfortunate  vagabond  had  been  transported  for  poaching. 
The  genius  of  the  English  nation  was  emphatically  opposed 
to  the  crime, — and  the  solitary  poacher  was  pursued  with 
that  sort  of  vindictive  enthusiasm  which  centuries  before 
had  characterized  the  wolf-hunt.  Is  it  possible  to  suppose, 
under  such  circumstances,  that  the  large  quantities  of  game, 
daily  sold  in  the  markets  of  London,  could  have  been  sup 
plied  by  the  stray  poachers,  whom  keen-eyed  prosecution 
had  allowed  to  escape  transportation  ?  It  was  an  absurdity 
that  occurred  to  the  obtuse  understandings  of  their  Lord 
ships  themselves.  They  stood  convicted  of  the  violation  of 
the  laws  they  had  passed,  expressly  to  break,  in  order  to  se 
cure  the  privilege  of  the  exclusive  sale  of  game. 


62  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

These  noble  outlaws,  who  professed  to  regard  a  trades 
man  as  a  more  honest,  but  much  less  reputable  personage 
than  a  highwayman,  and  would  have  shrunk  from  an  impu 
tation  of  trade,  as  from  an  accusation  of  picking  a  pocket — 
were  yet  detected  in  this  peddling  traffic  under  circum 
stances  which  should  have  caused  most  of  them  to  make 
voyages  to  Botany  Bay,  if  the  laws  had  been  as  strictly  en 
forced  against  rich  offenders,  as  ordinary  poachers.  Game 
was  found  to  constitute  a  surreptitious  branch  of  huckster 
ing,  much  too  profitable  to  their  Lordships  to  be  shared 
with  plebeian  rivals,  so  long  as  the  monopoly  could  be  en 
joyed  by  stealth.  But  when  their  felonious  practices  were 
exposed,  each  noble  hypocrite  rolled  his  eyes  in  horror  at 
the  extent  to  which  poaching  had  been  carried,  and  began  to 
fear  that  the  Game  Laws,  like  Draco's  bloody  code,  de 
feated  themselves  by  their  own  severity.  Notwithstanding 
their  well-assumed  surprise,  that  daring  outlaws  enough  ex 
isted  in  England  habitually  to  violate  laws  so  stringent, 
they  were  overwhelmed  by  the  consciousness  that  every 
Briton,  though  silent,  was  convinced  that  they  themselves 
were  the  violators  of  these  laws.  All  England  was  aware 
that,  in  order  to  secure  their  dirty  gains,  they  endangered 
the  liberty  of  unsuspecting  victuallers,  and  inoffensive  poul 
terers — whose  position  did  not  place  them  above  the  laws — 
by  making  them  accomplices  in  their  petty -larceny  villany. 
The  profits  were  enticing,  but  the  odium  was  oppressive  : 
they  therefore  became  willing  to  share  the  first  to  shuffle  off 
a  portion  of  the  last.  Though  endued  with  all  the  worst 
propensities  of  the  common  poacher,  without  that  apology 
which  want  and  misery  afforded  him  for  breaking  the  laws, 
to  prevent  starvation,  they  showed  themselves  destitute  of 
that  intrepidity  of  action,  which  inspires  an  involuntary  sort 
of  respect,  even  for  an  outlaw.  Base  enough  to  profit  by 
unlawful  practices,  they  became  yet  more  despicable,  when 
they  timidly  thrust  innocent  people  between  themselves  and 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  63 

responsibility.  I  feel  an  increased  contempt  for  a  poltroon, 
mean  enough  to  commit  a  dishonest  deed,  without  the  hardi 
hood  to  brave  the  consequences  of  his  own  roguery.  They 
were  arrant  knaves,  without  one  mitigating  circumstance  to 
plead  in  their  favor.  Their  fortunes,  in  placing  them  so  far 
above  want,  should  have  removed  them  from  those  tempta 
tions  to  evil,  which,  when  heightened  by  hunger,  the  poor 
must  find  it  so  difficult  to  resist.  Nobody  but  an  English 
man  could  fail  justly  to  discriminate  between  the  guilt  of 
two  persons,  one  of  whom,  though  rich,  commits  theft  in  the 
mere  wantonness  of  depravity,  and  the  other,  who  steals  a 
loaf  of  bread  to  relieve  a  starving  family.  Equity  leans 
towards  recommending  the  impoverished  wretch  to  mercy, 
but  English  ethics  favors  the  rich  criminal,  whose  wealth 
should  only  be  a  stronger  reason  for  his  condemnation. 
Such  is  the  mystic  inviolability  of  money  in  England. 
Even  the  heinous  crime  of  poaching,  which,  in  a  plebeian,  fs 
punished  with  such  inexorable  severity,  becomes,  in  a  Lord, 
"justifiable"  petty  larceny.  One  poacher  is  transported  to 
a  colony  of  felons,  but  the  other  remains  comfortably  at 
home,  to  protect  the  game,  and  deplore  the  proneness  of  the 
lower  orders  to  depravity. 

Detected  in  the  violation  of  those  laws  which  they  them 
selves  had  passed,  and  for  whose  strict  execution  they  pre 
tended  to  be  eager,  the  nobility  could  no  longer  pretend  to 
maintain  the  ancient  game  code.  A  law  was  accordingly 
passed  in  1834,  allowing  all  owners  of  land  to  kill  game 
themselves 'and  permitting  them  to  extend  the  permission  to 
other  persons.  When  it  is  remembered  how  money  is  wor 
shipped  in  England,  and  how  highly  prized  is  the  privilege 
to  shoot,  we  may  be  very  certain,  though  the  landowners 
might  be  sordid  enough  to  rent  out  their  sporting  rights, 
which  very  many  of  them  do,  that  the  shooting  of  game  was 
exclusively  confined  to  the  wealthier  classes  of  the  country. 
There  is  a  vast  demand  for  this  still  half-interdicted  luxurv 


64  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

of  game  to  be  supplied  in  all  the  markets  of  the  United 
Kingdom.  Human  nature  has  apparently  inherited  from 
our  first  parents  a  decided  weakness  for  forbidden  fruits  ; 
and  this  strong  inclination  is  heightened  in  the  numerous 
class  of  rich  pretenders,  by  one  equally  powerful — a  desire 
to  ape  the  aristocracy  in  their  fish  dinners  and  game  suppers. 
When  the  naturally  voracious  appetites  of  the  27,000.000 
of  Englishmen  are  increased  by  two  such  powerful  incen 
tives,  we  can  but  wonder  how  they  can  ever  be  gratified  by 
game,  though  the  30,000  landowners  should  all  take  to 
sporting.  If  each  one  of  these  fortunate  30.000  should 
shoot,  as  the  most  zealous  sportsman  would,  and  dispose  of 
his  surplus  game,  it  would  be  utterly  impossible  to  keep  up 
the  requisite  supply.  It  is  evident  that  they  must  assail  the 
doomed  pheasants  and  partridges  with  some  more  powerful 
motive  than  that  which  actuates  the  keenest  sportsmen.  No 
one  can  doubt  that,  during  the  Fall  months,  these  privileged 
landowners  and  their  friends  engage  in  the  profitable  busi 
ness  of  wholesale  poulterers,  which  they  pursue  with  an  in 
tensity  of  ardor  only  known  to  Englishmen,  when  in  full  cry 
upon  the  scent  of  a  sixpence.  The  nobility,  the  gentry,  and 
their  guests  are  the  hired  butchers,  who  annually  contract 
to  slaughter  the  required  quantity  of  game. 

Diana  and  Apollo  came  into  the  world  together.  The 
patrons  of  hunting  and  the  arts  are  twins  ;  and  even  in  these 
modern  days  of  degeneracy,  the  worshippers  at  the  shrine  of 
one  are  certain  to  imbibe  some  of  the  doctrines  of  the  other. 
No  man  can  be  an  enthusiastic  sportsman  without  possessing 
some  of  that  refinement  usually  produced  by  a  cultivation 
of  the  fine  arts.  A  real  hunter,  however  wild  in  his  habits, 
or  savage  in  his  attire,  is  certain  to  have  in  him  some  of  the 
elements  peculiar  to  a  gentleman.  Apollo  has  kindly  im 
parted  some  of  his  native  graces  to  the  humblest  of  his  twin 
sister's  votaries. 

There  is  something  in  the  adventurous  life  of  a  hunter, 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND.  65 

peculiarly  adapted  to  the  development  of  liberal  feelings. 
In  the  wild  woods  he  has  no  suspicion,  and  knows  no  dis 
trust  of  his  fellow-men.  Eternally  communing  with  nature, 
his  soul  must,  in  spite  of  all  his  disadvantages,  be  influenced 
by  the  grandeur  of  the  objects  around  him.  The  vastness 
of  the  forest  solitudes  leaves  room  for  the  growth  of  all  the 
nobler  impulses  of  man's  nature.  He  may  be  destitute  of 
the  advantages  of  a  cultivated  mind,  he  may  have  been  de 
prived  of  all  education  from  books  ;  but  he  will  always  dis-1 
play  that  scorn  of  a  mean  action,  that  unthinking  generosity 
and  native  courtesy,  which  constitute  the  basis  of  true  gen- . 
tility.  What  then  must  we  think  of  these  professed  followers 
of  Diana,  who  degrade  their  goddess  and  themselves  by  sell 
ing  the  sacrifices  avowedly  made  for  her  altar  ?  How  few 
of  the  generous  impulses  of  the  real  sportsman  can  actuate 
the  man,  who  meanly  retails  the  game  he  kills.  If  his  tastes 
enabled  him  truly  to  enjoy  shooting,  they  would  protect  the 
sport  from  such  desecration.  Even  the  least  sordid  of  these 
Englishmen  experience  none  of  the  intense  excitement  and 
joyful  exhilaration  of  the  sportsman, — they  hunt,  as  they 
patronize  the  arts,  because  they  consider  it  gentlemanly  to 
do  so.  Shooting  is  deemed  a  peculiar  propensity  of  the  gen 
tlemen,  as  the  masses  are  wholly  excluded  from  its  indul 
gence,  and  a  cockney  affects  the  pea-jacket  and  hob-nailed 
shoes  of  the  sportsman,  as  he  frequents  the  opera  with  white 
kids  and  a  lorgnette,  merely  because  he  is  ambitious  of  ap 
pearing  fashionable.  Every  gentleman  goes  down  to  the 
country  to  shoot,  and  so,  of  course,  must  he.  But  though 
he  throws  off  his  prim  city  suit,  for  the  free-and-easy  cos 
tume  of  the  country,  he  cannot  so  readily  dispose  of  his  sor 
did  inclinations.  True  to  his  nature,  he  makes  a  profit  of 
his  very  pastimes.  In  obedience  to  the  instincts  of  an  Eng 
lishman,  he  degrades  the  noblest  of  manly  exercises  into  the 
dirty  means  of  petty  gain.  He  sells  the  game,  which  he 
professes  to  shoot  for  excitement. 


()(3  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Honor  is  something  which  the  whole  world  has  united  in 
holding  sacred  even  when  religion  has  tottered.  It  is  what 
man  most  covets,  and  woman  most  admires.  Honor  is  the 
attribute  in  which  mortals  most  resemble  gods.  For  honor 
heroes  have  fought  and  minstrels  have  sung.  It  is  something 
to  which  even  savages  aspire  with  instinctive  adoration.  For 
honor  men  live,  for  honor  they  will  die.  It  is  more  precious 
than  poetry  itself,  for  poets  are  eager  to  embalm  it  in  their 
verse.  Men  cling  to  honor  even  when  hopes  of  salvation  are 
lost.  I  can  conceive  of  a  man  of  refined  mind  becoming  so 
wicked  as  to  sell  his  own  soul,  but  I  cannot  imagine  a  noble 
being  so  debased  as  to  part  with  its  honor.  The  danger 
which  makes  the  possesion  of  honor  doubtful,  makes  it 
precious.  The  hero's  glory  has  ever  been  regarded  the 
highest.  A  soldier's  honor  like  a  woman's  chastity  was  wont 
to  be  considered  above  all  price.  England  enjoys  the  dis 
tinction  of  making  it  a  marketable  commodity.  It  was  re 
served  for  her  to  fix  the  rate  at  which  it  might  be  bought 
and  sold.  She  retails  the  honor  of  soldiers  according  to  an 
established  tariff,  which  appropriately  adorns  all  her  public 
places.  She  speculates  in  glory  as  a  petty  hucksterer  does 
in  rancid  cheese.  But  the  many  who  hate,  and  the  few  who 
despise  England,  cannot  exult  over  her  baseness  in  selling 
commissions  in  her  own  army.  There  is  a  degree  of  degra 
dation,  which  changes  scorn  into  pity ;  and  makes  us  sin- 
cerly  sympathize  with  those  whom  we  most  heartily  despise. 

I  extract  a  leaf,  for  the  amusement  of  my  readers,  from 
the  Army  List,  which  is  published  every  month  by  authority 
of  the  "War  Office.  Among  a  vast  deal  of  information  with 
regard  to  the  change  of  quarters,  promotions  and  resigna 
tions,  deaths  and  marriages  of  the  officers,  it  contains  the 
following  table  for  the  edification  of  the  curious  with  regard 
to  the  merit  promotions  which  have  occurred.  It  is  extremely 
useful  to  rich  young  gentlemen  in  England,  who  are  am 
bitious  of  becoming  heroes  ;  and  will  I  hope  prove  not  un- 


SIXPENNY    MIRACLES    IN    ENGLAND. 


67 


interesting  to  my  readers  in  America.  The  table  is  conve 
niently  arranged  in  pounds,  shillings  and  pence ;  it  is  well 
enough  I  presume  to  be  particular  even  to  minuteness  in  so 
important  a  transaction  as  the  sale  of  a  reputation. 

PRICES  OF  COMMISSIONS. 


BANK. 

Full  Price  of 
Commissions. 

Difference  in 
value  be- 
ween  the  se 
veral  Com 
missions  in 
succession. 

Difference  in 
value  between 
Full  and  Half 
Pay. 

Life  Guards. 

1.          8. 

7250     0 
5350     0 
3500     0 
1785     0 
1260     0 

7250     0 
5350     0 
3500     0 
1600     0 
1200     0 

G175    0 
4575    0 
3225     0 
1190    0 
840     0 

9000     0 
8300     0 
4800     0 
2050     0 
1200     0 

4500     0 
3200     0 
1800     0 
700     0 
450     0 

700    0 
500    0 

1.        s. 
1900     0 
1850     0 
1715    0 
525     0 

1900     0 
1850     0 
1900    0 
400     0 

1600     0 
1350    0 
2035     0 
350     0 

700    0 
3500     0 
2750    0 
850     0 

1300     0 
1400    0 
1100     0 
250     0 

200     0 

1.    s.    d. 

l 

1533     0     0 
1352     0     0 
1034    3    4 
682  13    4 
800     0     0 

1314    0     0 
949     0     0 
511     0     0 
365     0     0 
150     0     0 

365     0     0 
200    0     0 

Cornot.                             

Royal  Regiment  of  Horse  Guards. 

Lieutenant                                  

Cornet                                      

Dragoon  Guards  and  Dragoons. 

Captain                                    

Lieutenant                   

Foot  Guards. 

Major,          with  Rank  of  Colonel  

Regiments  of  the  Line. 
Lieutenant-Colonel 

Maior 

Captain.  .                                  

Lieutenant  .   .       ... 

Fusilier  and  JRifte  Regiments. 
1st  Lieutenant  

2d  Lieutenant.   .  .  . 

68  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    CUSTOM-HOUSE. 

THIS  chapter  shall  be  a  very  brief  one ;  for  though  I 
rather  courted  the  bores  of  the  custom-house  as  a  good 
subject  for  railing  at  the  English,  yet  they  so  far  surpassed 
all  my  preconceived  notions  of  their  exaggeration,  that  I 
cannot  now  remember  them  with  sufficient  patience  to  write. 
But  I  feel  that  no  description,  however  glowing,  could  por 
tray  them  in  their  real  hideousness.  To  those  who  have 
experienced  the  annoyance,  my  description  would  seem  tame 
and  unsatisfactory,  and  those  happy  mortals  who  have  never 
been  subjected  to  the  insolence  of  English  custom-house 
officers,  had  better  remain  in  blissful  ignorance  of  what  may 
be  in  store  for  them.  I  once  attempted  to  show  that 
Englishmen  were  instinctively  insolent,  but  I  had  a  very 
vague  idea  of  what  I  was  describing.  I  was  only  familiar 
with  insolence  as  we  read  of  it,  and  as  we  see  it  under  ordi 
nary  circumstances  in  its  embryo  state.  I  had  never  met  with 
it  in  its  perfected  development — for  I  had,  at  that  time,  never 
passed  through  the  English  custom-house.  One  can  form 
some  idea  of  the  tyranny  concealed  amidst  the  vast  ramifi 
cations  of  the  English  government,  when  its  vulgar  fractions 
in  the  shape  of  custom-house  officials  are  so  tyrannically 
insolent. 

But  as  I  said  before,  I  shall  not  dwell  upon  the  weary 
hours  we  were  compelled  to  wait,  jammed  and  crowded 
together  in  a  small  pen  ;  our  feet  trampling  on  other 
people's  toes,  and  our  elbows  in  every  body  else's  ribs.  I 
shall  not  allude  to  the  annoyance  of  having  the  little  privato 


THE    CUSTOM-HOUSE.  69 

stores  of  the  passengers  subjected  to  the  most  scrutinizing 
inspection.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the  provoking 
deliberation  of  these  impertinent  underlings  in  counting 
segars ;  nor  the  prying  curiosity  with  which  they  peeped 
into  pots  of  preserved  ginger,  and  slyly  tasted  cans  of 
pickled  oysters.  I  shall  pass  over  their  manner  of  turning 
over  and  suspiciously  snuffing  a  Bologna  sausage,  as  if 
apprehensive  of  its  being  some  infernal  machine  on  a  com 
plicated  plan,  expressly  imported  for  the  destruction  of  the 
Queen.  I  shall  not  dilate  upon  the  minuteness  with  which 
they  scrutinized  soiled  linen,  and  their  persevering  manner 
of  rummaging  through  old  boots.  I  shall  not  even  indulge 
in  the  solace  of  a  caricature  of  our  chief  tormentor,  a  round- 
bellied  gentleman  in  black,  with  more  flesh  and  pomposity 
than  even  Englishmen  are  ordinarily  encumbered  with.  He 
was  very  evidently  above  his  business,  and  was  too  fat,  or 
too  blind,  or  too  ostentatious,  or  perhaps  all  three,  to  read 
the  list  of  passengers  with  that  fluency  desirable  to  impa 
tient  people.  But  he  insisted  that  every  thing  should  be  con 
ducted  with  formal  solemnity,  that  was  positively  outrageous 
Even  after  the  tedious  process  of  a  minute  examination  had 
been  passed  by  one  happy  man,  he  delayed  the  rest  by  clum 
sily  fumbling  for  the  ribbon  from  which  dangled  his  glass : 
then  he  was  a  long  time  adjusting  his  glass  to  one  eye,  and 
a  still  longer  time  shutting  the  other,  before  he  could  begin 
to  spell  over  the  entire  list  till  he  came  to  the  name  below 
the  last.  Then  it  would  have  puzzled  the  Delphic  Oracle 
to  divine  whom  he  meant  when  he  did  call  out  a  name,  his 
sight  was  so  bad  or  his  pronunciation  so  horrible.  All  thin 
I  shall  glide  over  in  comparative  silence,  but  there  is  one 
little  incident  I  must  beg  leave  to  mention. 

I  had  provided  myself  with  a  good  many  books,  to  amuse 
me  during  the  voyage,  but  being  aware  that  American  re 
prints  of  English  works  were  confiscated.  I  had  purposely 


70  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

avoided  them.  I  supposed  of  course  that  English  books, 
with  London  and  my  own  name  staring  them  in  the  face 
from  the  title-page,  would  pass  unmolested.  The  books, 
besides  having  my  name  written  in  them,  had  been  too  evi 
dently  read  for  them  to  suspect  me  of  an  unlawful  attempt 
to  peddle  books  without  a  license.  But  they  emptied  my 
trunk  and  carpet  bag,  and  proceeded  to  ivcigh  the  whole  lot 
as  a  means  of  ascertaining  their  value  and  determining  the 
amount  of  duty  due  on  them.  An  admirable  criterion  of 
the  English  estimate  of  literature  at  the  present  day.  I 
had  eight  pounds  of  books,  and  paid  four  shillings,  which 
justifies  me  in  concluding  that  the  retail  price  of  knowledge 
in  England  is  sixpence  a  pound ;  somewhat  cheaper  than 
damaged  herrings.  To  tax  books  at  all  which  were  evident 
ly  intended  for  personal  amusement  or  instruction  was  bar 
barous,  in  the  most  extended  sense  of  the  term  ;  but  the 
manner  of  ascertaining  their  value  struck  me  as  being  pecu 
liarly  English.  They  were  piled  into  a  large  pair  of  scales, 
and  weighed  as  we  do  live  hogs  in  the  West.  What  degra 
dation  to  some  of  the  mightiest  names  that  England  has 
produced.  But  pet  copies  of  Shakspeare  and  Byron  only 
differed  in  their  eyes  from  a  keg  of  lard  in  not  being  so  heavy, 
and  consequently  less  valuable. 

I  have  an  abiding  conviction,  that  the  statesman  who  in 
troduced  the  law  upon  tbe  introduction  of  books,  was  an  ad 
miring  reader  of  Knickerbocker ;  Walter  the  Doubter 
must  have  been  his  highest  judicial  authority.  His  statute 
bears  a  startling  resemblance  to  the  only  decision  of  that 
famous  Dutch  Lawgiver,  when  he  commanded  the  ledgers 
of  two  litigating  grocers  to  be  weighed  and  gave  judgment 
in  favor  of  him  whose  ledger  was  heaviest.  Their  estimate 
of  justice  and  knowledge  were  equally  extended,  and  equally 
worthy  of  this  most  enlightened  nation  of  the  nineteenth 
century. 


RURAL    SCENERY.  7l 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EUEAL  SCENERY. 

THIS  England — the  country  I  mean — the  fields,  the  trees, 
and  the  hedges,  is  truly  very,  very  beautiful.  Pleasing 
at  all  seasons  from  its  tidy  evidences  of  superior  cultivation, 
it  becomes  enchanting  when  seen,  as  I  lately  saw  it,  whilst 
every  leaf  and  spear  of  grass  shone  with  the  glistening 
freshness  of  early  spring.  I  positively  believe  I  should  feel 
enthusiastically  in  love  with  the  country,  if  I  could  for  one 
little  half  hour  forget  the  nation.  But  being  unfortunately 
situated  like  Yankee  Doodle,  when  he  complained  that  "  he 
could  not  see  the  town  for  the  houses,"  I  can  never  admire 
the  country,  without  being  reminded  of  the  people. 

The  pastoral  scenery  of  England  is  peculiar,  possessing 
all  the  polish  of  art  in  its  highest  perfection,  without  its  prim- 
ngss.  Soft  and  shining  as  a  long  summer's  day,  the  full 
blown  charms  of  the  island  droop  under  their  fairy  loads  of 
poetry  and  loveliness.  Well  may  it  be  named  the  Eden 
of  the  universe,  but  its  inhabitants  with  equal  justice  may 
be  denominated  the  "fallen"  of  creation.  The  beauties  of 
England  being  those  of  a  dream,  should  be  as  fleeting.  To 
a  man  whose  blood  needs  no  champagne  to  hurry  its  cours 
ing,  with  a  fancy  as  swift  as  the  steam  that  hurls  him  along, 
they  never  appear  so  charming  as  when  dashing  on  after  a 
locomotive  at  forty  miles  an  hour.  Nothing  by  the  way  re 
quires  study,  or  demands  meditation,  and  though  objects  imme- 


72  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

diatcly  at  hand  seem  tearing  wildly  by,  yet  the  distant  fields 
and  scattered  trees,  are  not  so  bent  on  eluding  observation, 
but  dwell  long  enough  in  the  eye  to  leave  their  undying  im 
pression.  Every  thing  is  so  quiet,  so  fresh,  so  full  of  home,  ami 
destitute  of  prominent  objects  to  detain  the  eye.  or  distract 
the  attention  from  the  charms  of  the  enchanting  whole,  that  1 
love  to  dream  through  these  placid  beauties,  whilst  sailing  in 
the  air,  quick,  as  if  astride  a  tornado.  All  things  then  as 
sume  the  delicious  indistinctness  of  some  bright  vision, 
during  an  after-dinner  doze  in  an  arm-chair.  Nothing  then 
appears  so  palpable  as  to  break  the  hazy  drowsiness  of  the 
scene,  by  its  too  substantial  reality. 

Thick-headed  tourists,  who  have  no  poetry  in  their  souls, 
may  sneer  at  the  idea  of  enjoying  the  rural  scenery  of  Eng 
land  from  the  window  of  a  railroad  car.  Such  mathematical 
individuals  would  fain  take  the  dimensions  of  each  fairy  land 
scape,  as  a  mason  would  measure  the  proportions  of  a  brick 
wall.  But  give  me  the  velocity,  the  exhilaration,  and  the 
panting  breezes  of  the  cars ;  let  me  enjoy  the  shadowy 
charms  and  softly-creeping  fascinations  of  an  English  land 
scape,  seen  from  their  windows.  There  is  wild  delight  in 
the  consciousness  of  such  motion.  There  is  intense  excite 
ment  in  this  shadowless  velocity.  There  is  glorious  inde 
pendence  in  the  power  of  bounding  to  a  place,  swiftly  al 
most  as  the  conception  of  the  wish  to  be  there.  "What 
could  be  more  intoxicating  than  this  tumultuous  throb  of  min 
gled  emotions,  felt  in  this  panorama  of  green  fields  and  flow 
ers,  gliding  fleetly  and  softly  as  the  fancies  of  the  opium  eater  ? 

'•  Will  you  make  an  excursion  with  me  from  Liverpool 
up  to  London  ?  Be  quick  ;  whilst  you  hesitate  we  may  both 
be  left.  The  express  train  starts  at  the  minute,  without 
delaying  for  loitering  passengers.  You  will  go  ?  Very 
well  j  here  you  are."  We  are  off;  already  grinding  through 
"  utter  darkness,"  where  there  is  no  "  gnashing  of  teeth," 


RURAL    SCENERY.  73 

but  a  fearful  clash  of  wheels :  we  are  in  the  tunnel.  Sud 
denly  we  shoot  into  open  air  like  a  sunbeam  piercing  a  fog, 
and  the  boundless  beauty  of  the  landscape  breaks  at  once 
upon  us.  Liverpool  is  already  a  mile  behind.  Far  as  the 
eye  can  reach,  on  every  side,  it  is  greeted  with  the  same 
lovely  view.  We  rush  through  a  succession  of  fresh  green 
fields  and  greener  hedges ;  of  villages  embowered  in  fruit 
trees,  with  the  tapering  spires  of  country  churches  modestly 
overlooking  them ;  of  bustling  market  towns,  and  smoky 
manufacturing  cities,  which  do  not  interrupt  the  character  of 
the  scenery,  but  serve  pleasingly  to  dot  the  vast  expanse  of 
shining  verdure.  The  fresh-springing  crops  of  grain  trem 
bled  to  the  lazy  breezes,  and  sometimes  seemed  to  wave  for 
very  gracefulness,  when  there  was  no  breath  to  stir  them. 
The  scene  appeared  a  wanton  waste  of  loveliness.  I  could 
not  reconcile  myself  to  the  thought  that  these  beauteous 
meadows,  so  thickly  strewn  with  flowers  that  one  might 
imagine  them  an  emerald  copy  of  the  starry  heavens,  were 
only  kept  to  graze  beef  cattle.  It  could  not  be,  that  these 
hedges,  trimmed  with  such  exquisite  taste,  were  only  intended 
as  ordinary  barriers  against  erratic  horses,  and  trespassing 
sheep.  Every  thing  was  too,  too  beautiful  for  this  !  But 
just  when  the  eyes  reeled,  and  sense  grew  drunk,  and  I  was 
dreaming  of  the  frolics  of  Puck,  and  the  fairy  reign  of 
Titania,  plump  we  came  upon  a  brick-yard,  with  its  prim 
rows  fresh  from  the  moulds,  and  its  pyramidal  kilns  smok 
ing  away,  to  remind  me  that  this  delicious  land  of  verdure 
and  flowers,  was  not  only  inhabited  by  the  English,  but  that 
they  were  commonplace  enough  to  shut  themselves  up  in 
brick  walls  from  all  this  loveliness.  And  then,  in  spite  of 
myself,  came  gloomy  pictures  of  English  ogres  in  Elysian 
gardens,  flitting  across  my  mind,  like  the  passing  shadows  of 
clouds  over  some  sunny  landscape.  But  these  unwelcome 
thoughts  are  dispelled  by  the  sight  of  a  lowly  thatched  cot, 
4 


74  ENGLISH     ITEMS. 

with  a  rosy-faced  baby  hurrying  on  all  fours  to  the  front 
door,  as  its  chubby  little  brothers  and  sisters  climb  the 
wicket  gate  to  greet  us  with  their  tiny  cheers,  as  we  flit  gayly 
by.  A  blossoming  clover  field  fills  the  whole  atmosphere,  as 
we  pass,  with  its  dcliciously  refreshing  odor.  And  look  at 
those  beans,  wagging  as  knowingly  their  flowery  heads,  and 
giving  birth  to  as  much  poetry  and  perfume,  as  if  they  had 
not  been  planted  there  for  horse-feed.  Every  thing  was  en 
chanting  except  the  sky.  and  that  was  cold  and  gray  enough. 
But  what  of  that  ?  It  is  only  the  background  to  an  exqui 
site  picture,  and  nobody  ever  dreams  of  regarding  it. 

Now  we  rattle  through  a  bustling  market  town,  with  its 
little  alehouses,  and  staring  squads  of  idlers.  An  ambitious 
village  cur  darts  furiously  out.  and  vainly  tries  with  us  his 
speed,  snapping  and  yelping  as  if  to  frighten  our  spirited 
steam-courser.  We  swiftly  pass  fields,  ready  prepared  for 
late  crops,  so  perfectly  ploughed  and  harrowed  that  they 
look  like  huge  pieces  of  brown  satin  stretched  upon  the 
green.  See,  winding  through  those  lovely  meadows,  that 
deep,  narrow  stream  of  clearest  water,  brimming  its  banks 
of  living  verdure,  and  so  placid  it  scarcely  stirs  the  long 
moss  floating  on  its  edges.  No  trees  fringe  its  banks ;  it 
steals  before  us  with  its  nude  beauties  unveiled.  In  its 
gentle  course  it  makes  a  thousand  picturesque  bends,  and 
wanders  about  as  if  seeking  to  lose  itself  in  these  grassy 
plains.  It  has  no  hurrying  occupation  ;  no  mills  to  turn,  no 
roaring  rivers  to  feed.  It  is  but  an  elegant  idler  in  this 
delightful  champaign  country.  And  as  it  loiters  lazily 
along,  it  dreams  of  no  more  arduous  task,  than  lending  new 
beauties  to  my  Lord's  beautiful  estate.  I  am  sorry  that  last 
idea  occurred  to  me — for  my  thoughts  made  a  sudden  transi 
tion  to  the  worthlessness  of  all  lackeys  to  the  rich  and  great , 
the  lazy  footmen,  dozing  butlers,  insolent  grooms,  and,  I  was 
going  to  say.  placid  streams — but  I  stopped.  For  there  was 


RURAL    SCENERY.  75 

a  rustic  bridge,  so  rude,  so  crazy,  and  so  picturesque,  it 
must  have  been  thrown  across  the  stream  merely  to  prevent 
the  possibility  of  the  scene's  sinking  into  too  much  softness. 
Nobody  would  ever  dream  of  crossing  on  it — it  seemed  only 
put  there  to  look  at,  and  it  may  be  to  interrupt  disagreeable 
trains  of  thought.  A  flock  of  noisy  rooks  mount  high  into 
air,  wheeling  and  cawing  around  us  as  if  to  speed  us  on  our 
way.  A  large  herd  of  fine  short-horned  cattle  are  browsing 
in  social  little  knots,  and  look  up  and  gaze  stupidly  after  us 
as  we  roll  smoothly  by.  The  whistle  sounds :  we  are  ap 
proaching  some  station.  Gradually  we  lessen  our  speed,  and 
finally  stop.  The  "  company's  servants,"  in  coarse  liveries  of 
black  velveteen,  with  the  initials  of  the  particular  railroad, 
and  their  numbers,  marked  in  white  cloth  on  their  collars, 
rapidly  move  from  car  to  car,  unlocking  them,  and  loudly 
announcing  the  name  of  the  station,  and  its  various  connec 
tions.  There  is  much  slamming  of  doors  as  people  get  out, 
because  they  have  arrived  at  their  journey's  end,  or  merely 
to  stretch  their  legs.  The  low  hum  of  the  passengers  and 
porters,  hurriedly  searching  for  baggage,  is  mingled  with  the 
shrill  cries  of  news-boys,  running  up  and  down  the  platform 
along  the  train,  with  this  morning's  papers  from  London. 
Then  comes  the  warning  bell ;  and  then  the  final  order  of 
the  conductor.  Then  there  is  again  great  slamming  of  doors, 
which  are  all  relocked — the  whistle  sounds,  and  off  we 
bound  after  two  minutes'  delay  in  our  flying  journey. 

We  rush  through  a  labyrinth  of  cottages  and  gardens, 
full  of  comfort  and  cabbages,  with  their  trim  hedges  appro 
priately  adorned  with  blue  smockfrocks  and  wet  breeches 
hung  out  to  dry.  A  large  flock  of  newly-sheared  Southdown 
sheep  are  quietly  grazing  in  the  neighboring  field,  but,  on 
our  approach,  hurriedly  scamper  off  with  much  shaking  of 
short  tails  and  ringing  of  sheep-bells.  Is  it  not  beautiful  ? 
that  deep  brawling  brook  with  its  lofty  banks,  wild,  broken, 


76  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

and  picturesque,  spanned  by  a  single  arch  of  stone,  crum 
bling  and  moss-grown,  through  which  it  foams ;  it  rushes 
madly  into  a  wooded  glen,  where  it  is  wholly  lost  to  view, 
and  when  again  it  gladdens  the  eye,  it  is  warring  bravely 
with  the  green  slimy  wheel  of  a  mill — a  hoary  patriarch, 
that  may  have  ground  flour  for  Cromwell's  troopers.  The 
country  beautifully  undulating,  as  if  under  the  agitating 
influence  of  its  own  surpassing  charms,  now  rises  into  gentle 
slopes,  now  runs  into  wavy  irregularities,  then  sinks  into 
unbroken  level.  It  seemed  that  some  tasteful  hand  had 
been  at  work  in  its  arrangement,  to  produce  the  happiest 
display  of  its  wooded  hills  and  green  walled  vales.  The 
variety,  in  size  and  shape,  of  these  hedge-bound  fields  is 
endless.  Shady  trees,  scattered  through  them  all,  break 
into  ever-varying  effects  the  vast  sheet  of  shining  green. 
Considerable  tracts  of  woodland  meet  the  eye  at  every  turn  ; 
their  changing  foliage  clustering  under  the  magical  effects 
of  light  and  shadow  to  lend  some  new  fascination  to  the 
scene.  And  when  nature  did  start  into  abrupter  eminences, 
its  savage  features  were  always  masked  in  the  russet  and 
gold  of  flowering  broom  piled  up  in  undisturbed  luxuriance. 
The  hedges  on  each  side  the  road  looked,  as  we  flew  along, 
like  two  green  coursers,  of  goblin  shape,  racing  furiously 
with  each  other  ;  and  the  daisies  and  batchelor-buttons  in 
the  fields  beyond  seemed  to  our  swimming  eyes  to  grow  into 
many-tinted  ribbons  forcibly  blown  from  the  mouth  of  some 
modern  magician.  But,  in  the  distance,  the  scene  was  a 
floating  sea  of  loveliness.  What  a  stately  mansion  is  that  ! 
looking  out  from  its  shady  clump  of  fine  old  oaks.  See  that 
merry  little  rivulet,  skipping  along  its  pebbly  bed.  with  its 
narrow  banks  thickly  lined  with  old  willows,  which  have 
been  so  hewed  and  hacked  for  their  pliant  shoots,  that  their 
gnarled  and  knotted  trunks  resemble  the  venerable  olives  in 
the  garden  of  Gethsemane.  The  ditch  of  that  sunk  fence  is 


RURAL    SCENERY.  •  .  77 

arbored  o'er  with  blossoming  briers  and  wild  creepers. 
The  hedge  is  no  longer  a  close-built  wall  of  verdure,  but  it 
is  broken  into  sweet  irregularities  by  the  masses  of  wild 
pluin  and  hawthorn  in  bloom— =-their  snowy  flowers  beauti 
fully  contrasting  with  the  dark,  brilliant  green  of  the  hedge  ; 
and  there  is  a  noble  old  castle,  with  its  Gothic  battlements 
and  swelling  towers,  seemingly  based  upon  a  huge  mound  of 
leaves,  so  thickly  wooded  are  the  sides  of  the  hill  on  which 
it  stands.  What  a  pity  that  all  this  beauty  is  created  by 
the  aristocracy,  even  as  the  pearl  hidden  in  the  shell  of  the 
oyster  is  the  result  of  disease. 

In  contrast  with  these  princely  mansions  we  roll  glibly 
by  a  modest  cottage,  with  its  gable-end  hung  with  a  dark 
mantle  of  ivy,  and  its  door  half-curtained  with  clambering 
roses  and  honey-suckles.  On  its  window-sills  are  ranged 
modest  pots  of  heliotrope,  and  mignonette,  breathing  their 
sweet  odors  upon  the  happy  inmates  of  the  lowly  cot.  In 
the  little  yard  of  grassplots  and  flowers  a  stately  cock  con 
voys  his  numerous  hens,  which  are  busily  scratching  and 
pecking  for  worms,  regardless  of  his  proifered  gallantries. 
Chanticleer  glories  in  his  charge,  and  loudly  crows  as  he 
flaps  his  burnished  wings  of  gold.  But  courageous  as  he 
seems,  he  lowers  his  proud  crest  and  utters  his  cackling  note 
of  alarm  as  we  whiz  swiftly  by.  In  the  stable-yard  stands 
an  old  white  horse,  freckled  with  age,  munching  his  oats  be 
side  a  rough  Shetland  pony.  Snugly  reposing  under  the 
shed  was  the  red  milch  cow,  chewing  the  cud  as  she  dozed 
unmindful  of  our  momentary  presence.  A  large  peacock, 
with  the  gorgeous  glories  of  his  tail  spread  to  their  utmost, 
strutted  stiffly  along  in  solitary  grandeur,  the  gaudy  monarch 
of  birds.  On  the  roof-shaped  hay-rick,  a  whole  flock  of 
pigeons  were  dozing  in  a  line,  with  their  heads  tucked  com 
fortably  under  their  wings,  and  the  noisy  Guinea  fowls 
shrieked  wildly  below.  What  a  snug  picture  of  home  com- 


78  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

forts  to  excite  all  the  enthusiasm  of  romantic  young  advo 
cates  of  u  love  in  a  village  !"  It  only  required  Cupid  peep 
ing  out  of  the  kitchen  window  in  a  white  apron,  with  a  nap 
kin  tucked  about  his  neck,  and  a  piece  of  dough  in  his  hand, 
to  complete  this  ideal  paradise  of  dumplings  and  devotion. 
More  sweet  fields  and  sweeter  hedges.  A  solitary  horse, 
carelessly  nipping  the  short  juicy  grass,  looks  up  as  we  smoke 
and  puff  towards  him — gazes  for  an  instant  with  bowed  neck 
and  raised  tail,  and  then  snorting  loudly,  bounds  off,  his 
head  half-turned  in  proud  defiance  as  he  gallops  slowly 
away.  On  a  bare  eminence  a  lonely  windmill  twirls  its 
gigantic  arms  in  creaking  agony.  How  distinctly  we  can 
trace  the  course  of  that  stream  through  these  delicious  mea 
dows  by  the  clustering  trees  that  grow  along  its  margin,  and 
hang  so  tenderly  over  it  with  their  long  drooping  boughs,  as 
entirely  to  conceal  the  water  from  the  light ;  and  then  when 
it  docs  gleam  forth  for  an  instant  from  its  leafy  covert  into 
sunshine,  it  flashes  like  some  rich  vein  of  quicksilver  issuing 
from  its  rugged  native  mine.  A  frightened  hare,  startled 
from  her  grassy  form  by  our  steaming  uproar,  bounds  forth, 
and  with  her  long  ears  resting  upon  her  back  fleetly  scours 
the  plain. 

And  soon  there  came  on  a  mist.  It  was  no  fog. — no  driz 
zle  ;  but  thin,  shadowy  and  almost  impalpable,  it  floated 
between  us  and  the  beauteous  landscape,  lending  a  softened, 
but  intenser  interest  to  the  scene.  And  then  it  commenced 
to  rain.  At  first  it  was  only  a  few  big  drops,  that  rattled 
through  the  leaves,  and  pelted  the  tops  of  the  cars.  And 
then  it  poured  in  right  good  earnest,  beating  down  the  agi 
tated  foliage  of  the  waving  boughs,  and  rudely  pattering 
upon  the  glassy  surface  of  the  placid  stream.  The  cattle 
sought  shelter  under  the  nearest  trees,  the  horses  drooped, 
and  the  sheep  huddled  close  together,  with  their  noses  stuck 
close  to  the  ground  to  avoid  the  raging  storm.  The  whole 


RURAL    SCENERY.  79 

scene  becoming  very  dismal,  and  very  English.  I  put  up  the 
window  and  soon  fell  asleep,  to  dream  of  the  wild  forests  on 
the  banks  of  the  Mississippi.  The  whistle  startled  me.  and 
I  looked  out  upon  that  huge  tinkery  of  iron  pots — hammering 
Birmingham — where  all  the  world  come  to  buy  their  soup- 
ladles.  The  scattering  forest  of  gaunt,  spectral  furnace 
chimneys,  that,  Babel-like,  kissed  the  clouds,  were  all  puf 
fing  furiously  away,  as  if  each  one  was  bent  on  doing  its  best 
to  smoke  the  gloomy  piles  of  dingy  houses  as  black  as  smoke 
could  make  them.  Here  we  had  ten  minutes  for  ennui  and 
refreshments.  People  stretched  their  legs,  and  some  took 
sandwiches,  and  others  a  glass  of  porter,  and  after  the  ten 
minutes  had  appeared  half  an  hour,  compared  with  the  ex 
citement  of  the  former  portion  of  the  journey,  the  whistle 
sounded,  and  off  we  rattled  once  more. 

The  sun  came  out  from  shelter,  and  with  him  the  cows. 
The  horses  once  more  took  to  grazing,  and  gradually  the 
sheep  scattered  over  the  fields,  and  the  frolicksome  lambs 
frisked  round  them  as  if  in  playful  derision  of  their  damp, 
close-sheared  skins.  What  a  pity  that  these  woolly  inno 
cents  should  ever  go  up  to  Smithfield,  to  be  made  mutton  of. 
The  sun  shone,  or  rather  did  its  best  to  shine  brightly,  but 
it  was  not  that  fierce,  glaring  sunshine  that  appears  eager  to 
drink  up  at  once  all  the  moisture  that  the  pitying  heavens 
had  shed  upon  the  earth  beneath.  There  was  nothing  daz 
zling,  nothing  parching  about  it.  '  It  was  the  mellowed, 
luxurious  light  of  a  shaded  lamp — a  fit  illumination  for  en 
chanted  bowers  and  submarine  grots ;  it  was  just  the  sort 
of  light,  in  fact,  that  a  fairy  or  a  mermaid  would  have 
revelled  in,  or  a  romantic  traveller  would  have  chosen  to  see 
the  softly  beautiful  scenery  of  England  by.  The  tender 
crops  were  still,  as  if  hushed  into  speechless  happiness  by  the 
refreshing  shower.  And  every  thing  looked  up  and  smiled, 
except  the  poor  beans,  which  drooped  their  heavily  wreathed 


80  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

beads,  weighed  down  by  the  glittering  moisture.  The  blithe 
lark  soars  high  above  us.  singing  as  he  dries  his  fluttering 
wings  in  the  stray  sunbeams.  And  here  and  there  a  drip 
ping  sparrow  hops  merrily  forth  from  his  protecting  hedge, 
chirping  as  gayly  as  if  it  had  never  been  known  to  rain  in 
England.  All  things  seemed  softer,  sweeter,  and  fresher 
than  before.  "We  rush  swiftly  by  a  flourishing  field  of  hops, 
the  creeping  plants  stuck  with  straight,  branchless  hoop- 
poles,  fiercely  bristling  in  their  formal  rows,  like  the  hundred 
thousand  bayonets  of  the  Champ  dc  Mars  on  review  day. 
We  plunge  into  another  tunnel.  Amidst  the  weighty  dark 
ness,  and  the  sulphureous  smell  from  the  furnace, — the  stun 
ning  roar  of  the  wheels,  and  the  terrific  yells  of  the  locomo 
tive  whistle, — one  might  imagine  himself  in  the  depths  of  a 
certain  brimstone  pit,  with  a  whole  squadron  of  devil's  imps 
careering  madly  through  it. 

"  I'll  not  march  through  Coventry  with  them,  that's  flat." 
So  said  I  to  myself  of  my  English  fellow-passengers,  who 
had  already  discovered  ways  of  rendering  themselves  disa 
greeable  before  arriving  at  that  ancient  city.  But  unfor 
tunately  for  me,  I  was  not  captain,  as  the  fat  Knight  was, 
and  so  the  whistle  sounded  and  off  we  all  rumbled  together, 
furious  as  so  many  cats  shaken  up  in  a  bag.  An  English 
man  is  decidedly  a  muffin,  not  only  in  his  puffy  appearance, 
but  in  his  quiet  endurance  of  an  oven-height  temperature. 
He  rather  enjoys  being  gently  baked,  and  shuns  draughts  of 
fresh  air  as  he  does  beggars.  If  it  were  his  fortune  to  take 
a  siesta  under  the  equator,  he  would  tenderly  insert  his  head 
in  a  woollen  nightcap,  as  a  proper  precaution  against  the 
possibility  of  getting  cold  in  the  head,  of  which,  after  indi 
gestion,  he  lives  most  in  dread.  In  leaving  Birmingham, 
we  had  so  changed  our  direction  as  to  turn  their  faces  to 
wards  the  iron  horse,  and  thereby  to  give  them  the  control 
over  the  windows  which  we  had  previously  enjoyed.  Tho 


RURAL    SCENERY.  81 

lively  lick  at  which  we  moved  created  an  invigorating  breeze. 
An  Englishman  would  have  been  false  to  his  nature  had  he 
quietly  exposed  himself  to  such  a  draught ;  so  each  flushed 
gentleman,  with  determined  composure,  proceeded  to  put  up 
a  window,  and  put  on  his  nightcap,  and  after  wrapping  him 
self  up  in  his  India-rubber  overcoat,  he  snugly  composed 
himself  to  sleep.  Stifling  hot  became  the  car  ;  our  con 
densed  breath  ran  down  the  glass  in  streams,  ancj.  yet  they 
snoozed  on,  toasting  as  comfortably  as  fellow-muffins,  waiting 
their  turn  to  go  into  breakfast.  Through  the  combined  as 
sistance  of  his  odoriferous  overcoat  and  the  sweltering  heat, 
each  dozing  Englishman  soon  succeeded  in  making  a  scent- 
bag  of  himself,  which,  if  crows  had  noses,  would  prove  invalu 
able  in  a  corn-field  afflicted  with  those  destructive  birds. 
Was  it  not  suffocating?  provoking?  And  then  to  hear 
them  snore  too  !  It  was  positively  frightful.  What  social 
punishment  could  be  deemed  too  severe  to  be  inflicted  on 
any  civilized  Christian,  who  would  get  into  a  confined  atmos 
phere  in  an  India-rubber  coat? 

We  dash  through  more  fields  and  hedges ;  and  there, 
half-hidden  in  the  deepest  shadow,  is  the  picturesque  porter's 
lodge,  opening  upon  the  long  broad  avenue  of  drooping  elms, 
which  leads  to  some  aristocratic  dwelling.  These  venerable 
elms  may  be  considered  the  living  sign-posts  to  aristocracy ; 
and  really  if  this  aristocracy  in  its  action  on  men  resembled 
its  influence  on  nature,  it  would  be  an  uncommonly  pretty 
thing  to  look  at.  I  have  since  this  railroad  trip  often  trotted 
in  a  dog-cart  along  the  shady  lanes  and  retired  roads  of  Eng 
land,  pausing  by  the  way  to  wonder  at  and  admire  the  exceed 
ing  loveliness  of  many  a  mansion  of  aristocracy.  A  man 
must  see  in  order  to  appreciate  these  secluded  hiding-places 
of  wealth.  The  taste,  the  care  and  ingenuity  displayed  in 
the  style  of  architecture  of  the  houses,  and  in  the  keeping 
of  the  grounds  and  parks,  surpasses  the  most  exaggerated 
4* 


82  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

fancies  of  an  imaginative  mind.  But,  alas !  the  careful 
culture  of  trees  and  cattle,  as  ministers  to  its  luxury,  mono 
polizes  all  the  attention  of  the  aristocracy,  whilst  thousands 
of  operatives  in  mines  and  manufactories,  and  paupers  in 
cities,  are  left  to  starve  in  ignorance  and  vice.  Trees  arc 
pruned,  watered  and  manured,  and  the  unceasing  care  of 
countless  laborers  is  devoted  to  them.  The  sleek  horses  and 
bullocks  are  considerately  blanketed ;  due  regard  is  had  to 
the  air,  light  and  cleanliness  of  their  stables,  and  every  at 
tention  is  paid  to  the  quantity  and  quality  of  their  food. 
But  millions  of  human  beings  are  left  by  their  noble  land 
lords  to  rot  in  those  dens  of  "  graduated  starvation  " — the 
workhouses, — or  else  to  eke  out  an  existence  of  protracted 
wretchedness  in  stifling  coalpits,  and  suffocating  factories,  or 
to  die  unheard  of  in  the  cheerless  garrets  and  loathsome 
cellars  of  the  large  cities  of  the  kingdom.  The  horses  and 
bullocks  the  aristocracy  intend  to  ride  and  eat.  and  they 
are.  for  that  reason,  no  scanty  recipients  of  affectionate 
attentions.  But  the  other  class,  God  having  seen  fit  to  for 
bid  by  their  peculiar  conformation,  their  being  subjected  to 
either  one  of  the  above-mentioned  uses,  can  hope  for  no 
place  in  the  sympathies  of  their  more  fortunate  fellow-men. 
The  aristocracy  then  being  unable  either  to  ride  or  to  eat 
them,  innocently  wonder  what  on  earth  they  were  made  for, 
and  so  leave  them  to  starve  or  be  miraculously  fed  by  the 
ravens  as  may  happen.  When  it  is  remembered  that  in  the 
park  alone  of  Chatsworth  there  are  1600  acres,  and  that  all 
the  four  hundred  titles,  and  a  vast  number  of  ambitious 
commoners,  own  one  or  more  scats  with  extensive  parks 
attached  ;  some  idea  may  be  formed  of  the  immense  tracts 
of  the  finest  land  kept  idle  to  bolster  up  the  proud  suprem 
acy  of  these  wealthy  sluggards,  which,  if  brought  into  culti 
vation,  would  assist  in  feeding  the  starving  millions  of 
London  and  the  mining  and  manufacturing  districts. 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  83 


CHAPTER  V. 

ENGLISH  WRITERS  ON  AMERICA. 

A  FEW  meek,  submissive,  anglicized  Americans  are  nerv 
ously  anxious  to  convince  England,  and  America,  that 
the  deepest,  most  abiding  affection  subsists  between  them. 
They  most  assiduously  labor  to  prove  by  facts,  and  figures, 
that  certain  prejudiced  travellers,  and  narrow-minded  jour 
nalists,  do  but  waste  ink  in  their  efforts  to  disturb  the  har 
mony  of  two  nations,  allied  in  origin,  and  bound  by  common 
ties.  They  blandly  assure  England,  that  ^America  still 
bases  her  national  pride  upon  the  triumphs  of  "  the  mother 
country."  They  confidently  assert,  that  the  American 
people,  proud  of  their  English  descent,  still  insist  upon  shar 
ing  with  Great  Britain  the  glories  of  their  common  ances 
tors.  They  cajole  Americans  with  the  soft  assurance,  that 
England  regards  their  progress  with  that  sort  of  interest 
which  the  parental  heart  can  only  feel ;  they  protest  that 
she  is  proud  of  her  offspring  ;  and  that  she  glories  in  their 
success  at  home  and  abroad,  as  new  evidence  of  the  invinci 
bility  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  They  hope,  by  judiciously 
tickling  the  vanity  of  Johnny  Bull,  to  restrain  him  from  the 
commission  of  excesses,  to  which  even  Americans  would  fail 
to  submit.  And  by  dinging  into  our  ears  the  familiar  whine 
of  "  the  mother  country,"  "  our  common  ancestors,"  and  the 
glory  of  being  descended  from  a  people  "  who  can  claim 
Shakspeare  and  Milton  as  countrymen,"  they  hope  to  recon- 


84  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

cile  Americans  to  the  degradation  of  a  tutelage  which  must 
prove  a  stain  on  our  national  character.  They  would  fair, 
convince  us  that  we  must  be  servile,  in  order  to  be  proud  ; 
they  insult  our  understanding,  by  attempting  to  convince 
us,  that  we  could  maintain  our  honor  at  the  sacrifice  of  our 
independence. 

According  to  the  convenient  doctrine  of  these  complying 
sycophants,  gratitude  for  the  honor  conferred  on  us  by  our 
English  relationship,  should  make  us  forgive  any  offence, 
and  submit  to  any  imposition  England  may  be  pleased  to 
inflict.  We  are  considerately  warned  of  the  danger  of 
offending  our  parent ;  her  insults  must  be  treated  as  badi 
nage  ;  her  hostility  deemed  all  a  joke.  If  we  should  resent 
her  outrages,  she  may  declare  us  to  be  no  longer  her  heirs  ; 
if  we  excite  her  ire,  she  might  cut  us  off  from  the  rich 
inheritance  of  her  glory.  Though  her  good  will  could  prove 
valuable,  and  America  could  learn  to  humbly  sue  for  her 
favors,  ought  our  interest  to  make  us  forget  that  forgiveness 
may  cease  to  *be  magnanimous,  and  that  forbearance  may, 
after  a  while,  sink  into  pusillanimity  ?  But  "  to  crook  the 
pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee,  when  thrift  may  follow  fawning," 
is  something  that  America  has  yet  to  learn.  On  our  own 
strength,  and  not  on  England's  favor,  we  rely  for  success. 
We  renounce  all  claim  to  England's  glory,  by  succession. 
We  scorn  to  be  honored  as  the  reputed  descendants  even 
of  Great  Britain.  As  American  citizens  we  present  to  the 
world  our  claims  to  respect ;  as  American  citizens  we  are 
ready  to  maintain  them.  That  solitary  relic  of  England's 
absurdities,  that  honor  could  be  derived  from  ancestors,  has 
never  been  received  with  favor  in  our  land.  Our  theory  and 
our  practice  have  ever  been,  that  ';  true  nobility  looks  to 
the  future,  not  to  the  past."  If  we  wear  any  of  Eng 
land's  laurels,  we  have  won  them,  not  borrowed  them.  And 
if  we  are  proud  of  being  Americans,  it  is  not  because  we 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  85 

may  as  descendants  of  Englishmen  share  their  national  pride, 
but  because  as  foemen,  in  equal  fight,  we  hare  humbled  it 
'Tis  most  true  that  Britain's  triumphs  are  our  glory.  But 
we  have  appropriated,  as  she  gained  them,  on  the  ocean  and 
in  the  field. 

It  is  our  interest,  as  it  has  ever  been  our  pleasure,  to  do 
justice  to  England's  greatness.  In  acknowledging  her  reputa 
tion  we  establish  our  own.  Prowess  in  the  vanquished  is 
the  proudest  tribute  to  the  victor.  She  has  hitherto  been 
supreme  ;  but  her  ambition  overleaps  itself;  her  pre-eminence 
is  likely  to  prove  her  ruin.  She  so  long  stood  alone  among 
nations,  that  she  can  but  ill  brook  the  presence  of  a  rival, 
more  especially  when  that  rival  appears  in  a  nation  whom 
she  has  struggled  to  think  of  with  scorn  and  treat  with  de 
rision.  In  order  to  convince  the  world  and  themselves  of 
the  sincerity  of  their  disdain,  Englishmen  have  resorted  to 
the  vilest  slander  and  abuse.  They  indulge  their  native 
malevolence  in  every  species  of  injustice,  in  every  form  of 
attack.  There  is  no  crime  too  flagrant,  no  outrage  too 
glaring,  for  Americans  to  be  accused  of.  But  their  own 
fury  blinds  them.  They  forget  that  malignity  cannot  be 
mistaken  for  indifference ;  that  rancor  can  never  be  con 
strued  into  contempt.  The  bitter  pleasure  they  derive  from 
assailing  America,  shows  that  they  fear  as  well  as  hate  her. 
The  very  pains  they  take  to  convince  the  world  that  we  are 
unworthy  of  all  consideration,  proves  of  how  much  more  im 
portance  we  are  in  their  eyes  than  they  would  have  it  sup 
posed.  Such  intense  hatred  lives  not  without  a  cause  ;  in 
difference  on  any  subject  produces  silence ;  and  if  we  were 
so  despicable  as  they  pretend  to  believe,  we  should  much 
less  frequently  be  the  theme  of  their  invective.  But  it  is 
the  privilege  of  helpless  malice  to  rail,  and  England  too  well 
deserves  the  right  not  to  be  allowed  to  enjoy  it.  If,  in 
abusing  us,  she  finds  relief  from  the  choking  accumulation 


86  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

of  her  spleen,  I  can  say  from  my  heart  let  her  rail  on.  Her 
satire  has  hitherto  proved  more,  harmless,  if  possible,  to 
America  than  her  arms.  Her  assaults,  of  both  kinds,  have 
always  redounded  as  much  to  our  honor  as  her  own  confu 
sion.  But  I  would  have  her  spite  ascribed  to  its  real  mo 
tive  ;  I  should  like  to  see  her  attacks  received  in  the  proper 
spirit.  What  could  be  more  humiliating  than  to  behold 
her  "  lily-livered "  partisans,  whilst  wincing  under  her 
savage  calumnies,  vainly  attempting  a  grinning  approval  of 
their  wit  ?  What  could  be  more  disgusting  than  to  observe 
those  Anglicised  Americans,  whilst  cowering  beneath  the 
fierceness  of  her  rebuke,  meanly  acknowledging  the  justice 
of  it  ?  I  would  not  have  my  countrymen  forget  the  fact, 
that  her  malice  arises  from  envy,  and  that  jealousy  sustains 
her  bitterness.  I  would  have  them  amused  by  what  is 
worthy  of  being  laughed  at,  at  the  same  time  that  I  would 
have  them  despise  the  vituperation,  which  has  nothing  but 
its  Billingsgate  coarseness  to  distinguish  it.  I  can  always 
laugh  at  a  really  good  thing,  even  when  perpetrated  at  my 
own  expense ;  I  could  enjoy  even  English  sarcasm  could  it 
ever  fail  to  sink  into  scurrility. 

It  would  be  cruel  to  restrain  England  in  her  propensity 
to  vilify  us,  when  she  displays  such  remarkable  fluency  in 
a  slanderous  style  of  speech.  When  the  ability  to  calum 
niate  is  the  only  power  which  has  survived  the  gradual  en 
croachment  of  bowels  upon  intellect  in  Great  Britain,  it 
would  be  a  pity  to  rob  the  English  even  of  this  miserable 
evidence  of  mind.  When  vituperation  is  the  solitary  ap 
proach  they  are  capable  of  making  to  any  quality  which 
belongs  to  eloquence,  it  would  be  excessive  enmity  not  to 
leave  them  to  its  indulgence.  I  should  be  as  reluctant  to 
deprive  them  of  the  free  exercise  of  their  undoubted  talent 
for  abuse,  as  I  would  be  to  curry  favor  with  them  by  sub 
mission.  But  I  should  like  to  reserve  the  privilege  of 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  87 

receiving  and  replying  to  their  invectives,  without  regarding 
the  flunky  dictation  of  some  few  Americans,  who  have  shown 
themselves  unworthy  of  the  name.  I  have  no  desire  to  cur 
tail,  in  the  least  degree,  the  ample  range  of  England's  vile 
imagination  ;  but  I  do  not  relish  being  insulted,  by  being 
told  that  she  basely  slanders  because  she  tenderly  loves  us. 

Mutual  enmity  is  the  only  feeling  which  can  ever  be 
maintained  with  sincerity  between  the  two  nations ;  and 
there  is  something  much  more  attractive,  to  me,  in  the  frank 
ness  of  declared  hostility,  than  the  empty  professions  of  a 
truce  which  neither  pretends  to  respect.  We  must  be  foes ; 
but  let  us  be  courteous  foes.  All  that  we  demand  of  Eng 
lishmen  is,  that  there  shall  be  "a  fair  fight"  and  "no hitting 
under  the  belt."  We  expect  no  gentle  consideration  for  our 
inexperience  on  their  part ;  but,  on  entering  "  the  ring,"  we 
defy  them  to  do  their  worst.  We  have  nothing  to  fear  in 
this  contest.  A  brave  foe,  though  vanquished,  commands 
the  admiration  of  his  adversary.  'Tis  true  America  is  young, 
and  not  much  skilled  in  "  the  science  of  fistiana  ; "  but  though 
we  may  be  conquered  after  some  "  hard  fought  rounds,"  yet 
we  will  much  more  certainly  secure  England's  respect  than 
we  could  purchase  her  forbearance  by  "  going  down"  without 
a  single  blow.  But  if  we  will  "  hit  out "  vigorously,  there 
is  no  certainty  that  the  issue  of  the  battle  will  be  against 
us.  Englishmen,  though  strong,  and  much  practised  in  the 
cunning  tricks  of  "  the  ring,"  present  so  many  assailable 
points,  that  our  victory  is  certain  if  our  determination  prove 
valiant.  Let  them  thoroughly  understand  "  the  articles  of 
the  fight ; "  that  the  contest  may  hereafter  be  conducted  with 
the  punctilious  propriety  of  "  an  affair  of  honor,"  not  the 
low  indecency  of  a  brothel  brawl. 

We  are  assured  that  England  regards  us  with  a  most 
parental  affection  ;  we  are  informed  that  she  is  proud  of 
her  offspring.  She  has;  indeed,  been  most  touchingly  affec- 


88  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

tionato.  From  the  13th  May,  1607,  to  the  20th  December, 
1852,  her  solicitous  attentions  have  been  unceasing.  From 
the  time  of  Captain  Christopher  Newport's  landing  his  fleet 
of  three  ships,  with  the  105  settlers  of  Jamestown,  to  the 
date  of  our  present  glorious  Republic  of  thirty-one  States, 
the  marks  of  her  sincere  regard  have  been  too  unmistakable 
for  even  '•  the  most  prejudiced  and  narrow-minded  of  Ameri 
cans  "  to  deny  them.  Her  devotion  has  truly  been  very 
extraordinary.  Nature  affords  but  a  single  parallel  of  her 
maternal  affection.  She  gloats  over  us  with  that  sort  of 
appetizing  tenderness,  which  might  be  supposed  to  have  ani 
mated  a  sow  "  that  hath  eaten  her  nine  farrow."  We  are 
probably  indebted  to  our  strength  and  numbers  for  not 
having  been  subjected  to  the  same  practical  illustration  of 
her  extreme  devotion  enjoyed  by  the  pigs.  Twenty  millions 
of  hardy  freemen  would  prove  a  troublesome  meal,  even  for 
ogreish  England. 

But  England  regards  our  progress  with  parental  exulta 
tion.  That  she  docs  watch  our  advancing  strides  with  the 
deepest  interest.  I  am  most  ready  to  admit.  But  hers  is  a 
keener  anxiety  than  ever  animates  even  a  parent's  breast. 
It  is  the  feverish,  all-absorbing  interest  of  an  apprehensive 
rival,  whose  soul  is  racked  by  mingled  hate  and  fear.  If 
she  pretends  to  glory  in  our  success,  as  her  kindred  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon  race,  she  has  been  rather  too  tardy  in  discover 
ing  the  tie  of  relationship,  to  make  its  acknowledgment  at 
all  flattering  now.  The  truth  is,  that  even  her  purblind 
jealousy  at  last  permits  her  to  feel  that  some  honor  might 
arise  from  claiming  us  as  of  her  own  family,  and  she  has 
become  wondrously  proud  of  a  connection  that  she  lias  been 
something  less  than  a  hundred  years  in  finding  out.  Iii 
defiance  of  her  persecutions,  wars,  and  slanders,  we  hav( 
assumed  such  a  position,  that  even  she  might  derive  conse 
quence  from  patronizing  us.  But  she  strangely  mistake* 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA  89 

our  relations,  when  she  supposes  that  the  American  people 
would  submit  to  being  treated  as  inferiors.  Having  shown 
ourselves  her  equals  in  peace,  and  her  superiors  in  war,  we 
must  respectfully  decline  her  patronage,  as  we  have  steadily 
defied  her  malice.  The  hope  that  she  could  flatter  us  into 
bolstering  up  her  tottering  empire  is  eminently  worthy  of 
her  selfishness,  but  does  not  reflect  much  credit  on  her  judg 
ment.  She  gave  us  no  assistance  in  our  rise ;  she  must  ex 
pect  none  from  us  in  her  decline.  She  must  not  hope — she 
must  not  hope,  by  playfully  claiming  us  as  her  "  American 
kinsfolk,"  that  the  reflection  of  our  rising  glory  will  illu 
mine  her  waning  power.  We  disclaim  all  sympathy  with 
people  who  can  only  remember  that  they  are  related  to  us, 
when  it  becomes  their  interest  to  do  so.  We  should  have 
despised  them  less  had  they  continued  to  assail  us  as  ene 
mies,  instead  of  making  pusillanimous  professions  of  friend 
ship  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  feel.  The  favors  we  have 
received  from  England  will  not  be  troublesome  to  return. 
We  may  be  as  slow  to  extend  as  we  have  been  to  receive 
friendly  greetings. 

But  then  we  have  "  common  ancestors."  We  spring 
from  the  same  origin,  and  speak  the  same  language,  'tis 
true.  But  all  this  only  serves  to  widen  the  gulf  between 
us.  Common  enmity  is  mild  compared  with  the  hatred 
which  springs  from  friendship  outraged  and  confidence 
abused.  Neglected  duties  and  broken  ties  do  but  increase 
the  bitterness  of  those  who  have  once  been  united.  Like 
objects  negatively  electrified,  England  and  America  fly  farther 
k  asunder,  from  having  so  closely  adhered.  The  laws  govern 
ing  our  sympathies  are  as  unchangeable  as  those  of  elec 
tricity,  and  we  now  mutually  repel,  because  we  once  mu 
tually  attracted  each  other.  Position,  the  times,  and  fate 
unite  in  making  us  rivals.  It  is  impossible  that  we  could 
ever  be  otherwise  whilst  England  continues  powerful,  or 


90  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

America  free.  The  two  greatest  nations  on  earth — the 
occupants  of  different  hemispheres,  and  the  representatives 
of  antagonistic  principles  of  government,  necessity  would 
make  us  rivals  in  spite  of  the  sincerest  inclination  to  be 
friends.  It  is  but  natural  that  England  should  feel  most 
acutely  this  feeling  of  jealousy.  The  weaker  rival  ever 
nurses  the  bitterest  hate.  And  England  cannot  escape 
from  the  consciousness  that  her  strength  must  wane  as  ours 
grows,  though  she  may  attempt  to  deceive  others  by  her 
boasts  and  sneers.  She  already  bears  about  her  the  evi 
dences  of  o'er- ripe  maturity,  whilst  every  year  must  develope 
some  new  power  in  America,  Decay  must  soon  begin  in 
England,  and  time,  which  will  prove  her  ruin,  will  be  our 
friend.  Her  successful  rivals,  we  have  not  time  to  pause 
in  our  career  to  wonder  if  England  cheers  our  progress. 
We  are  not  anxious,  because  we  have  nothing  to  fear.  We 
are  less  bitter,  because  we  feel  secure.  Our  advance  is  too 
japid  to  give  us  time  to  watch  England.  We  hate  her  with 
much  less  intensity  than  she  lias  honored  us  with,  because 
we  feel  no  apprehension  of  her  power.  As  she  cannot  ob 
struct  our  path,  we  naturally  forget  her  presence.  But  we 
must  be  eternally  in  her  thoughts,  because  we  are  gradually 
eclipsing  her  greatness.  The  spectre  of  some  dreaded  ob 
ject  haunts  the  apprehensive  mind  with  much  more  con 
stancy,  than  the  loved  one's  image  lives  in  a  devoted  heart. 
England's  distrust  commenced  at  our  birth,  and  has  in 
creased  with  our  strength.  The  apprehension  with  which 
she  regarded  us,  seemed  almost  instinctive.  Whilst  we 
were  as  yet  a  sickly  settlement,  feebly  contending  in  the  wil-. 
dcrncss  against  savages  and  famine,  she  seemed  oppressed 
by  the  consciousness  that  there  was  danger  to  her  in  our  suc 
cess.  With  unnatural  barbarity  she  turned  from  us.  with 
the  vain  hope  that  we  must  perish  amidst  the  privations  of 
the  desolate  spot,  in  which  our  lot  was  cast  But  the  God 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  91 

of  nations,  who  sent  ravens  to  feed  Elijah  in  the  desert, 
succored  us.  And  from  a  handful  of  men.  whose  hopes 
of  existence  were  reduced  to  a  few  grains  of  corn,  we  have 
been  raised  up  into  a  powerful  protector  to  the  rest  of  the 
world  against  the  encroachments  of  the  English  system. 
England's  deadly  enmity,  originally  shown  in  neglect,  was  af 
terwards  manifested  in  a  series  of  persecutions,  which  final- 
lv  drove  us  into  open  resistance.  In  her  attempt  to  coerce 
us  by  arms  she  lost  her  colonies,  and  we  gained  our  indepen 
dence.  Her  hatred,  increased  by  the  bitter  mortification  of 
defeat,  was  not  long  in  again  bursting  into  unrestrained  fury. 
She  resolved  to  cripple  our  growing  commerce  by  exercising 
the  arrogated  right  of  search.  Once  more  she  struggled 
to  annihilate  our  power  in  war.  Her  baffled  hate  received 
another  terrible  rebuke,  and  our  brilliant  success  by  sea  and 
land,  which  added  a  long  list  to  our  heroic  names  of  the  Re 
volution,  first  taught  her  to  fear  as  much  as  she  hated  Amer 
ica.  She  no  longer  dared  assail  us  openly,  and  her  national 
rivalry  sunk  into  personal  spite.  Destitute  of  the  power  to 
injure  us  as  a  nation,  she  condescended  to  assail  individual 
peculiarities,  and  by  the  ridicule  of  our  manners  by  her 
tourists,  and  attacks  on  our  social  and  political  institutions, 
by  her  periodicals  and  daily  press,  she  hoped  to  accomplish 
by  cavilling  at  us,  what  she  had  failed  to  do  by  her  arms. 
Her  jealous  disposition  has  been  evident  to  all  those  familiar 
with  the  newspaper  literature  of  the  country ;  but  it  is 
so  happily  displayed  in  the  following  petty  attack  from 
the  London  Times  on  the  American  contributions  to  the 
world's  fair,  that  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  quote  it. 
It  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  tone  of  the  London  press  gene 
rally  : — 

If  the  American  do  excite  a  smile,  it  is  by  their  pretensions. 
Whenever  they  come  out  of  their  own  province  of  rugged  utility,  and 
enter  into  competition  with  European  elegance,  they  certainly  do  make 


92  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

themselves  ridiculous.  Their  furniture  is  grotesque;  their  carriages 
and  harness  nre  gingerbread;  their  carpets  arc  tawdry;  their  patch 
work  quilts  surpass  even  the  invariable  ugliness  of  this  fabric ;  then- 
cut  glass  is  clumsy  ;  their  pianos  sound  of  nothing  but  iron  and  wood  ; 
their  bookbinding  is  that  of  a  journeyman  working  on  his  own  account 
in  an  English  market  town  ;  their  daguerreotypes  are  the  sternest  and 
gloomiest  of  all  daguerreotypes ;  their  printed  calicoes  are  such  as  our 
housemaids  would  not  think  it  respectable  to  wear.  Even  their  inge 
nuity,  great  as  it  is,  becomes  ridiculous  when  it  attempts  competition 
with  Europe.  Double  pianos,  a  combination  of  a  piano  and  a  violin,  a 
chair  with  a  cigar-case  in  its  back,  and  other  mongrel  constructions, 
belong  to  a  people  that  would  be  centaurs  and  mermen  if  they  could, 
and  are  always  rebelling  against  the  trammels  of  unity. 

The  displays  of  her  mean  disposition  to  detract  from  our 
merits  are  not  confined  to  the  absurd  scurrility  of  her  news 
papers  or  the  stale  slanders  of  her  books.  In  her  bluster 
ing  course  with  regard  to  the  McLeod  difficulty,  the  North 
western  boundary,  and  the  recent  fishery  question,  her  ma 
levolence  almost  got  the  better  of  her  prudence  ;  she  plainly 
showed  that  she  still  possessed  the  will,  though  destitute  of 
the  courage  to  attack  us.  England  should  be  careful  of 
these  outbursts  of  fury.  She  should  remember,  that,  like 
the  bee,  which  in  leaving  its  envenomed  sting  with  its  foe, 
sickens  and  dies,  the  enraged  rival  may  become  the  victim 
of  his  own  wiles.  The  means  to  which  Great  Britain  re 
sorts  to  overthrow  America,  may  prove  her  own  ruin. 

It  is  true  that  a  cowardly  policy  during  the  uncertainty 
of  the  late  dispute  about  the  Newfoundland  fisheries,  dictat 
ed  a  great  change  of  tone  in  the  press  of  England  since  the 
period  when  its  head,  the  London  Times,  denounced  Ame 
rica  as  a  Republic  of  scoundrels,  with  a  few  honest  men  in 
termixed.  But  their  unconquerable  aversion  to  America 
embitters  the  soothing  cup  of  flattery  they  commend  to  our 
lips ;  and  they  lose  the  advantage  of  their  attempt  to  con 
ciliate,  by  allowing  their  miserable  jealousy  to  shine  through 


ENGLISH    WRITERS  ON    AMERICA.  93 

their  labored  efforts  at  praise.  The  Times,  about  the  period 
when  many  thought  the  two  countries  might  be  involved  in 
war,  contained  this  somewhat  remarkable  article,  in  which 
it  lauds  our  power  and  progress,  but  insinuates  that  we  are 
pirates  and  villains,  who,  regarding  the  laws  neither  of  God 
nor  man,  are  yet  destitute  of  the  courage  to  avenge  the  mur 
der  of  our  citizens,  which  resulted  from  our  unscrupulous 
ambition.  It  is  useless  to  comment  on  the  subtle  injustice 
of  the  article.  It  speaks  for  itself : 

THE  LEAP  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  TO  THE  FIRST  RANK  OF 

NATIONS — THE    CONQUEST    OF    CUBA. 
[From  the  London  Timee  of  September  6,  1852.] 

It  has  ever  been  the  delight  of  historians  and  philosophers  to  trace 
and  work  o\it  an  analogy  between  the  peculiarities  of  climate  and 
scenery,  and  the  character  and  disposition  of  nations.  There  is  some 
thing  singularly  wild  and  extreme  in  the  physical  phenomena  of  the 
American  continent.  The  mountains  literally  pierce  the  clouds,  and 
pour  down  from  their  snow-capped  summits  rivers  that  sweep  their 
uncontrollable  course  for  thousands  of  miles,  and  bear  with  them,  as 
trophies  of  their  might,  trees  of  a  girth  and  growth  unknown  to  the 
European  observer.  The  seasons  are  as  strongly  marked.  A  summer  of 
raging  and  almost  intolerable  heat  is  succeeded  by  a  winter  of  little  less 
than  Arctic  severity.  All  things  there  tend  to  represent  the  course  of 
nature  as  the  result  of  a  series  of  violent  and  uncontrollable  impulses, 
and  to  conceal  those  silent  and  unvarying  laws  which  regulate  alike 
the  fall  of  a  drop  of  rain  and  the  course  of  the  mighty  Father  of 
Waters. 

There  never  probably  was,  since  the  beginning  of  the  world,  an 
instance  of  such  solid,  sudden,  and  dazzling  prosperity  as  has  been 
achieved  within  the  last  fifty  years  by  the  United  States  of  America. 
By  peaceful  industry  and  bold  but  well-weighed  enterprise,  they  have 
advanced  to  a  degree  of  material  well-being  which,  to  those  who  only 
know  the  world  from  books,  must  appear  almost  incredible.  They 
have  but  to  persevere  in  the  same  course,  and  there  is  no  limit  to  the 
triumphs  that  lie  before  them.  They  have  still  a  boundless  territory 
to  occupy  and  improve,  in  the  possession  of  which  they  are  without  a 


94  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

neighbor,  and  a  mission  of  civilization  and  consolidation  to  execute  as 
noble  as  ever  devolved  \ipon  the  sons  of  men.  But  the  previous  tri 
umphs  of  their  industry  and  their  enterprise  have  been  so  rapid  and 
portentous  that  they  would  seern  to  have  a  tendency  to  turn  aside  the 
nation  from  its  steady  onward  course,  and  to  enlist  it  in  more  brilliant 
but  far  less  certain  schemes  of  aggrandizement.  A  nation  of  hard- 
headed  traders  and  speculators,  struggling  day  by  day  with  praise 
worthy  perseverance  and  intensity  for  the  possession  of  the  "  almighty 
dollar,"  this  people,  so  shrewd  and  calculating  in  its  private  transac 
tions,  becomes,  when  it  touches  on  public  affairs,  wild  and  extravagant, 
boundless  in  its  aspirations  and  insatiable  in  its  cupidity.  It  possesses 
a  will  as  uncontrollable  as  the  powers  of  nature  which  surround  it, 
and  spurns  the  control  of  law  to  which  these  mighty  agencies  so  humbly 
submit  themselves. 

There  are  at  present  two  courses  of  policy  open  to  the  United 
States — the  policy  of  commerce  and  the  policy  of  conquest.  It  is  open 
to  them  to  throw  down  commercial  restrictions,  to  stimulate  the  spirit 
of  traffic,  to  give  up  aspirations  of  military  glory,  and  found  a  power 
like  that  of  their  mother  country,  relying  rather  on  arts  than  arms ;  or 
they  may  substitute  the  military  for  the  commercial  spirit,  seek  to 
establish  within  themselves  a  world  of  their  own,  and  to  enlarge  a  ter 
ritory  already  too  vast  for  unity,  by  the  forcible  annexation  of  lands  too 
weak  to  resist  the  onset  of  the  mighty  confederation.  Xever  had  a 
people  good  or  evil  set  so  fairly  before  them,  and  never  was  the  choice 
more  doubtful  or  momentous. 

It  is  now  just  a  year  since  the  piratical  expedition  to  Cuba,  resulting 
in  the  sanguinary  execution  of  fifty  American  citizens  nnd  the  ignomi 
nious  death  of  the  "unprincipled  adventurer"  by  whom  the  descent 
was  planned.  We  had  hoped  that  this  severe  lesson — a  single  reverse 
amid  so  much  prosperity  and  progress — would  have  taught  the  United 
States  the  folly  and  wickedness  of  such  unwarrantable  enterprises,  and 
finally  decided  the  balance  in  favor  of  the  policy  of  justice  and  mode 
ration.  There  is  much  reason  to  fear  we  are  mistaken.  A  sort  of 
"  guild  "  or  "  order  "  has  been  formed  in  the  South,  consisting,  we  sup 
pose  we  must  say,  not  of  unprincipled  adventurers,  but  of  many  of  the 
most  "worthy  and  influential  merchant*,  lawyers  and  politicians  of  the 
country."  The  object  is  the  extension  of  American  influence  over  the 
Western  hemisphere  and  the  islands  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific.  The 
first  booty  on  which  they  have  cast  their  eyes  is  Cuba,  and  from  that 
island  they  propese  to  sweep  away  every  vestige  of  Spanish  authority 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  95 

before  two  suns  have  risen  and  set  on  the  invaders.  "Enlightened 
public  opinion  in  the  United  States,"  it  is  said,  will  sanction  this  mea 
sure,  seeing  that  there  are  many  reasons  why  Americans  require  the  pos 
session  of  the  island.  In  the  first  place,  they  wish  to  substitute  for  the 
iron  rule  of  Spain,  the  republican  system  of  government ;  next,  they 
anticipate  assistance  from  the  discontented  Creoles — a  fallacious  hope,  if 
we  may  judge  by  the  experience  of  Lopez.  Thirdly,  they  see  in  the 
acquisition  of  this  island  a  guarantee  for  the  permanency  of  the  institu 
tion  of  slavery.  Fourthly,  such  a  conquest  would  extend  their  com 
merce.  Fifthly,  the  rich  and  luxurious  covet  this  gem  of  the  Antilles, 
as  an,  agreeable  and  accessible  retreat  from  the  severities  of  a  New- 
York  winter,  and  long  to  exchange  the  frozen  breezes  of  the  North  for 
enchanting  visions  of  orange  trees  and  sherry  cobblers.  The  sum  and 
substance  of  all  these  reasons  is  that,  Avithout  pretending  a  shadow  of 
right  to  this  possession  of  the  crown  of  Spain,  the  Americans  desire  it, 
and  therefore  will  have  it.  Whatever  the  Americans  can  take  belongs 
to  them,  according  to  this  new  school  of  ethics ;  and  come  peace  or 
come  war,  they  will  not  permit  the  intervention  of  any  European 
power  between  them  and  any  friendly  ally  whom  they  are  determined 
to  plunder. 

It  is  no  little  question  that  is  raised  by  these  avowed  intentions — 
nothing  less  than  whether  one  of  the  first-rate  powers  of  the  world 
shall  declare  itself  exempt  from  the  provisions  of  the  law  of  nations — 
shall  deny  the  existence  of  any  right  except  that  of  the  stronger,  and 
claim  to  set  no  bounds  to  its  aggressions,  except  the  limits  assigned  by 
its  boundless  cupidity  and  lust  of  dominion.  Shall  there  arise  in  the 
middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  a  piratical  State,  bound  by  no  laws, 
recognizing  no  rights,  and  avowedly  basing  its  policy  on  principles 
which  in  the  case  of  individuals  this  very  same  society  would  visit 
with  the  penitentiary  or  the  gibbet  ?  There  was  a  time  when,  intoxi 
cated  like  the  United  States  with  its  enormous  prosperity,  ancient 
Athens  laid  down  for  itself  the  same  rule  of  conduct,  and  boldly  pro 
fessed  that  while  justice  might  regulate  claims  between  equals,  the 
stronger  had  a  right  to  impose  every  thing  to  which  the  weaker  might 
be  compelled  to  submit.  After  a  few  years  the  vicissitudes  of  events 
placed  this  arrogant  State  in  the  very  position  it  had  described,  and 
rendered  it  dependent  on  the  contemptuous  clemency  of  a  conqueror 
for  that  very  existence  to  which,  upon  its  own  principles,  it  had  lost  all 
right  when  it  became  unable  to  defend  it.  Suppose  we  were  to  apply 
a  similar  reason  to  the  island  of  Madeira.  Nothing  would  be  easier 


96  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

than  to  take  it  from  the  feeble  power  to  whom  it  belongs.  It  is  not 
too  well  governed  by  the  Portuguese,  it  is  a  commanding  commercial 
position,  and  its  climate  is  regarded  as  a  specific  for  the  national  disease 
of  consumption.  We  have,  therefore,  many  reasons  to  desire  it.  Why, 
then,  do  we  not  make  it  our  own?  For  two  reasons,  which  our 
American  friends  will  do  well  to  consider.  We  will  not  violate  thr 
principles  of  eternal  justice,  tarnish  the  lustre  of  our  arms,  and  disgrace 
our  character  for  fairness  and  moderation,  by  wresting  his  properly  from 
our  ally  because  he  is  unable  to  keep  it.  And  if  we  wish  to  do  this  we 
dare  not.  We  dread  the  retribution  which  follows  on  such  acts,  and 
have  learnt  that,  sooner  or  later,  the  force  of  public  opinion  will  put 
down  any  power  which  claims  to  emancipate  itself  from  the  control  of 
conscience  and  the  practice  of  justice.  We  commend  these  considera 
tions  in  no  unfriendly  spirit  to  our  friends  across  the  Atlantic,  and 
trust  that  they  will  see,  on  calmer  reflection,  that  in  this  case,  as  in  all 
others,  their  duty  is  identical  with  their  interest,  and  that  enlightened 
pxiblic  opinion  in  the  States,  instead  of  supporting  "  worthy  and  influ 
ential  "  men  who  form  themselves  into  secret  societies  for  the  purposes 
of  piracy  and  buccaneering,  will  declare  that  euch  objects  are  unwor 
thy,  and  that  their  promoters  ought  not  to  be  influential. 

But  the  ingenious  gentlemen,  alluded  to  in  the  com 
mencement  of  this  chapter,  insist  that  the  people  of  England 
are  devotedly  attached  to  us,  and  pretend  that  the  ribald 
assaults  so  frequently  made  upon  us  through  all  the  literary 
channels  of  the  country,  are  but  the  unheeded  ravings  of 
rabid  editors,  and  the  frothy  emanations  of  tourists'  brains. 
This  absurd  declaration  requires  no  refutation  among  those 
who  have  been  in  England,  who  have  encountered  Eng 
lishmen  in  travelling  in  the  older  continents,  or  who  have 
been  much  associated  with  them  in  our  own  ;  but  those  who 
have  been  so  fortunate  as  entirely  to  escape  the  annoyance 
of  intercourse  with  them,  need  require  no  better  evidence 
of  their  hostility,  than  the  tone  of  their  books  and  news 
papers.  The  peculiar  opinions  of  any  people  may  be  best 
judged  of  by  the  style  of  the  books  written  for  their  amuse 
ment.  It  is  the  labor  of  every  author  so  to  adapt  his 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  97 

and  sentiments  to  the  tastes  of  his  readers,  as  most  probably 
to  secure  their  approbation.  Whether  he  writes  for  fame 
or  money,  selfishness  prompts  him  to  pursue  this  course  ;  and 
the  opinions  he  advances  will  inevitably  be  colored  by  the 
prejudices  of  the  community  in  which  he  lives.  The  con 
sciousness  that  his  success  is  so  wholly  dependent  on  their  ap- 
approval  will  make  him,  without  his  being  aware  of  it,  adapt 
his  ideas  to  theirs,  even  whilst  he  imagines  himself  a  bold 
and  independent  writer.  No  book  was  ever  yet  written  without 
an  expectation  on  the  part  of  the  author  of  its  finding  readers. 
'Tis  ridiculous  to  suppose  that  any  man  would  submit  to  the 
labor  of  book-making  merely  for  the  fun  of  composition. 
The  preface  to  a  mediocre  volume  often  declares  the  con 
sciousness  of  the  author,  that  the  tenets  of  his  work  must  pre 
vent  its  ever  being  read.  But  the  pains  he  takes  to  make 
the  announcement  shows  its  absurdity.  The  preface  which 
contains  the  modest  declaration  betrays  its  insincerity.  He 
may  pretend  that  he  has  resorted  to  writing  to  while  away 
leisure  hours,  or  to  alleviate  mental  suffering ;  and  I  can 
very  readily  conceive  of  his  wishing  his  lucubrations  printed 
for  his  own  convenience,  as  a  permanent  record  of  his  feel 
ings  at  the  time.  But  surely  the  preface  is  altogether  su 
perfluous,  unless  he  hopes  that  other  eyes  than  his  own  will 
peruse  his  thoughts.  And  the  man  who  unblushingly  de 
clares  in  one  of  those  necessary  attachments  prefixed  to  every 
printed  volume,  that  he  has  written  a  book  which  he  believes 
nobody  will  read,  convicts  himself  of  something  very  like 
lying. 

Even  authors,  purely  actuated  by  the  higher  impulses  of 
ambition,  will  in  spite  of  themselves  study  the  feelings  of 
their  probable  readers.  How  preposterous  then  is  it  to  de 
clare,  that  writers  in  a  country  like  England,  where  every 
thing  is  undertaken  with  the  hope  of  gain,  would  crowd 
their  books  with  sentiments  notoriously  unpopular.  In 
5 


98  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

England  an  author's  popularity  is  not  estimated  by  the 
number  of  editions  issued,  but  by  the  price  paid  for  his  work 
by  the  publisher.  He  is  not  so  much  celebrated  for  the  re 
putation  he  has  established,  as  the  money  he  has  amassed. 
He  writes  not  for  fame  but  gold.  And  he  endeavors  not  so 
much  to  give  utterance  to  sentiments  which  will  give  im 
mortality  to  his  name,  as  to  express  opinions  which  will  se 
cure  the  most  favorable  terms  from  his  publishers.  Noth 
ing  is  better  calculated  to  produce  servility,  than  a  base  love 
of  gold.  And  so  long  as  Englishmen  continue  to  write  for 
money,  they  will  not  only  studiously  avoid  shocking  the 
prejudices  of  their  countrymen,  but  will  take  particular 
pains  to  minister  to  them.  Every  prejudice  is  weighed — 
every  passion  consulted  by  these  mercenary  bookwrights. 
in  order,  by  inflaming  them,  to  create  a  greater  demand  for 
their  works.  They  would  be  the  last  men  in  the  world  to 
assail  America,  if  they  were  not  assured  that  scurrilous  abuse 
of  that  country  was  the  most  saleable  commodity  of  their 
trade. 

The  press  may  be  justly  considered  the  best  thermometer 
for  ascertaining  the  true  state  of  public  opinion,  on  any  sub 
ject,  in  any  country,  where  even  the  forms  of  freedom  are  ob 
served.  Editors,  in  addition  to  many  other  manifestations 
of  talent,  evince  an  extraordinarily  quick  perception  of  the 
inclinations  of  the  majority,  and  generally  manage  to  use 
them  to  their  advantage.  It  is  a  well-approved  saying  even 
in  America,  where  a  greater  independence  of  spirit  and  more 
freedom  animates  the  press  than  any  country  in  the  world, 
that  on  all  questions  of  taste  or  national  utility,  the  press 
follows  public  opinion  so  closely,  as  to  appear  to  direct  it. 
How  much  more  applicable  is  this  proverb  to  England,  where 
the  acceptance  of  money  for  advocating  any  man  or  meas 
ure  is  not  deemed  a  prostitution  of  the  press.  In  the  uni 
versal  scramble  for  gold  which  convulses  the  country,  edit- 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  99 

ors  of  periodicals  and  newspapers  are  not  ashamed  openly 
to  avow  their  ministering  to  the  most  bigoted  prejudices, 
and  exciting  the  worst  passions  of  the  people,  as  a  source  of 
profit  to  themselves.  That  policy  is  advocated,  that  gov 
ernment  praised,  and  those  opinions  encouraged  which  it 
is  supposed  will  pay  best.  And  when  this  most  sordid  prin 
ciple  animates  the  social  and  political  system  of  England, 
Americans  must  not  be  surprised  that  Quarterlies — Month 
lies,  Weeklies  and  Daylies,  should  unite  in  heaping  con 
tumely  on  America,  whilst  the  morbid  tastes  of  Englishmen 
continue  to  relish  such  abuse.  As  the  stereotyped  slang,  in 
which  they  habitually  assail  us,  requires  but  a  small  invest 
ment  of  talent,  and  yields  a  very  handsome  profit,  an  attack 
on  America  has  become  a  favorite  speculation  with  the  penny- 
a-liner  tradesmen  of  Great  Britain.  It  is  a  branch  of  the 
business,  in  which  the  vilest  scribblers  may  set  up,  as  a  large 
stock  in  trade  is  not  requisite  to  make  an  imposing  show. 
The  basest  tinsel  appears  gold,  and  the  lowest  Billingsgate 
is  thought  to  be  gay  trimming,  when  they  adorn  the  doublet 
of  slanders,  in  which  these  catchpenny  speculators  in  second 
hand  clothes  attempt  to  array  America. 

When  I  can  show  that  both  tourists  and  editors  indulge 
in  the  coarsest  invective  against  America,  I  think  my  read 
ers  will  agree  with  me  that  Englishmen  are  not  quite  so  ar 
dent  in  their  affection  for  America  as  some  of  our  anglicized 
countrymen  would  have  us  suppose.  In  presenting  the  fol 
lowing  extracts,  I  have  no  expectation  of  informing  my  read 
ers  of  what  they  have  not  for  a  long  time  been  aware  of.  I 
merely  desire  to  refresh  their  memories  as  to  the  very  many 
outrageous  things  which  have  been  said  of  us.  Both  as  to 
authors  and  quotations,  I  have  been  influenced  by  conve 
nience  ;  a  sufficient  number  will  be  given,  I  hope,  to  convince 
even  those  who  may  not  be  familiar  with  the  style  of  Eng 
lish  writers  on  America,  that  I  have  not  been  unjust  in  my 


100  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

conclusions  with  regard  to  the  sentiments  of  Englishmen 
towards  us. 

Mr.  Featherstonliaugh  has  well  deserved  the  honor  of 
being  placed  in  the  front  rank  of  those  I  shall  mention,  by 
the  freest  indulgence  of  those  euphonic  epithets  which  appear 
most  acceptable  in  the  refined  circles  of  England.  From 
Washington  to  New  Orleans  this  highly  tasteful  gentleman 
has  adorned  his  crowning  wreath  of  slanders  with  the  choicest 
flowers  from  Billingsgate.  The  F.  R.  S.  ostentatiously 
tacked  to  his  name,  might  be  very  naturally  translated  by 
the  ignorant  into  First  Royal  Scavenger,  he  appears  so  per 
fectly  at  home  in  the  handling  of  filth.  But  though  he  has 
so  copiously  bespattered  us  with  his  foul  language,  I  am  cer 
tain  he  has  caused  us  no  greater  uneasiness  than  the  annoy 
ance  we  should  feel  in  being  defiled  by  any  other  dirt-cart 
which  happened  to  pass.  But  the  distinguished  gentleman 
and  scholar  shall  speak  for  himself.  His  opening  sentence 
is  worthy  of  the  author  and  his  book. 

Any  one  who  has  endured  for  many  days  the  filth  and  discomfort 
of  that  caravansary  called  Gcukby's  Hotel  at  Washington,  the  city  of 
"magnificent  distances,"  will  feel  exceedingly  rejoiced  when,  after  a 
short  interval  of  two  or  three  hours,  he  finds  himself  transferred  by 
the  railroad  to  Barnum's  at  Baltimore. 

Hear  him  on  the  White  Sulphur  Springs  of  Virginia : 

Language  cannot  do  justice  to  the  scenes  we  witnessed,  and  through 
which  we  had  to  pass  at  the  White  Sulphur  Springs.  It  must  appear 
incredible  to  those  who  have  heard  so  much  of  the  celebrity  of  this 
watering-place,  but  who  have  never  been  here,  to  be  told  that  this, 
the  most  filthy,  disorderly  place  in  the  United  States,  with  less  method 
and  cleanliness  about  it  than  belongs  to  the  common  jails  of  the  country, 
and  where  it  is  quite  impossible  to  be  comfortable,  should  from  year  to 
year  be  flocked  to  by  great  numbers  of  polite  and  well-bred  people, 
who  have  comfortable  homes  of  their  own,  and  who  continue  to  remain 


ENGLISH    WRITERS,   $ 

amidst  all  this  discomfort,  which,  from  the  nature  of  things,  they  know 
is  unchangeable.    This  requires  some  explanation. 

As  a  specimen  of  the  "  polite  and  well-bred  people,"  the 
lucky  Mr.  Featherstonhaugh  encountered  at  the  "  Springs," 
I  beg  leave  to  call  the  attention  of  my  readers  to  the  fol 
lowing  conversation  between  three  newly  arrived  gentlemen 
from  Virginia,  Kentucky  and  Mississippi.  The  citizens  of 
those  States  will,  of  course,  recognize  the  accuracy  with  which 
the  learned  author  has  given  their  respective  dialects  as  ex 
isting  in  "  polite  and  well-bred  "  circles  : 

One  of  them  maintained  that  in  "  the  hull  woorld  there  was  no 
sich  bacon  as  Virginia  bacon."  Another,  who  was  a  Kentuckian,  felt 
himself  hurt  by  this  observation,  and  put  in  an  immediate  rejoinder ; 
saying,  "I  allow  the  Virginians  do  flog  all  mankind  at  praising  them 
selves,  and  their  bacon  might  be  pretty  good,  but  it  war'nt  to  be  com 
pared,  no  not  for  a  beginning  of  a  thing,  to  the  bacon  of  the  western 
country,  where  the  land  was  an  almighty  sight  finer,  produced  better 
corn,  and,  of  course,  made  better  hogs."  The  Virginian  now  became 
nettled,  and  swore  they  had  "  more  reel  luxuries  in  old  Virginia  than 
they  had  in  the  hull  woorld)'  and  asked  the  Kentuckian  if  they  had 
"  oysters  in  Kentucky,  and  clams,  and  sich-like ; "  finishing  with  a 
declaration  that  the  finest  land  in  the  "  hull  woorld  "  was  in  South 
ampton  County.  These  oysters  silenced  the  Kentuckian,  who,  living 
far  in  the  interior,  had  never  seen  any ;  but  a  resident  of  the  State  of 
"  Massasippi,"  who  could  not  stand  this  boast  of  fine  land,  put  it  to 
the  Virginian  whether  they  could  grow  sugar  in  Southampton  County, 
and  added  that  he  had  "  always  heer'n  that  the  hawysters  of  New- 
Orkens  had  sich  a  o?iaccouutable  fine  flavour,  that  they  would  knock 
the  hawysters  of  Old  Virginny  into  their  ninety-ninth  year  any  day." 
"I  reckon  they  get  that  from  the  yellow  fever,"  rejoined  the  Vir 
ginian. 

He  gives  a  truthful  and  graphic  description  of  the  style 
of  accommodation  prevailing  at  the  Springs  : 

The  mattress  was  full  of  knots,  and  what  was  in  the  thing  that  was 


ITEMS. 

intended  to  be  my  pillow  I  never  ascertained ;  but  a  gentleman  in 
formed  me  that  lie  and  his  wife  having,  after  the  usual  vexatious  delays, 
got  into  some  room  resembling  ours,  as  soon  as  they  laid  down  for  the 
night,  found  their  pillow  not  only  very  disagreeable  from  a  sickening 
odour  that  came  from  it,  but  gifted  with  some  curious  hard  knobs  in 
it  that  were  moveable.  As  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  sleep  upon  it, 
he  threw  it  on  one  side,  and  had  the  curiosity  to  examine  it  in  the 
morning,  when  he  discovered  that  they  had  not  only  bountifully  put  a 
handful  or  two  of  dirty  live  feathers  into  it,  but  the  necks,  with  the 
heads  to  them,  of  two  chickens  and  a  duck.  I  have  not  the  least  doubt 
of  the  truth  of  this,  for  the  slaves  who  attend  to  such  matters  have 
entirely  their  own  way,  and  there  is  no  one  to  examine  their  conduct. 

The  fossil  gatherer  is  thrown  into  a  helpless  state  of 
wondering  bewilderment  by  the  "  grand  bolting  operation." 
The  astonishment  is  truly  incomprehensible  which  could 
deprive  an  Englishman  of  his  dinner  : 

But  who  can  describe  the  noise,  the  confusion  incident  to  a  grand 
bolting  operation,  conducted  by  three  hundred  American  perform ers, 
and  a  hundred  and  fifty  black  slaves  to  help  them?  It  seemed  to  me 
that  almost  every  man  at  table  considered  himself  at  job-work  against 
time,  stuffing  sausages  and  whatever  else  he  could  cram  into  his  throat. 
But  the  dinner-scene  presented  a  spectacle  still  more  extraordinary 
than  the  breakfast.  And,  first,  as  to  the  cooking,  which  was  after  this 
mode.  Bacon,  venison,  beef,  and  mutton,  were  all  boiled  together  in 
the  same  vessel ;  then  those  pieces  that  were  to  represent  roast  meat 
were  taken  out  and  put  into  an  oven  for  awhile ;  after  which  a  sort  of 
dirty  gravy  was  poured  from  a  huge  pitcher  indiscriminately  upon 
roast  and  boiled.  What  with  this  strange  banquet,  and  the  clinking 
of  knives  and  forks,  the  rattling  of  plates,  the  confused  running  about 
of  troops  of  dirty  slaves,  the  numerous  cries  for  this,  that,  and  the 
other,  the  exclamations  of  the  new-comers,  "  Oh,  my  gracious !  I  reckon 
I  never  did  sec  sich  a  dirty  table-cloth,"  the  nasty  appearance  of  the 
incomprehensible  dishes,  the  badness  of  the  water  brought  from  the 
creek  where  the  clothes  were  washed,  and  the  universal  feculence  of 
everything  around,  the  acene  was  perfectly  astounding.  Twice  I  tried 
to  dine  there,  but  it  was  impossible.  1  could  do  nothing  but  stare,  and 
before  my  wonder  was  over  everything  was  gone,  people  and  all,  ex- 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  103 

cept  a  few  slow  eaters.  I  never  could  become  reconciled  to  the  uni 
versal  filth,  as  some  told  me  they  had  got  to  be,  and  my  wife  would 
literally  hjfve  got  nothing  to  eat  if  I  had  not  given  a  douceur  to  the 
cook,  and  another  to  one  of  the  black  servants,  to  provide  her  every 
day  a  small  dish  of  fried  venisou  or  mutton,  for  which  we  waited  until 
it  was  placed  before  her ;  this,  with  very  good  bread — and  it  always 
was  good — was  her  only  resource.  Much  squeezed  as  we  were  at  first, 
there  was  a  sensible  relaxation  and  more  elbow-room  in  a  very  few 
minutes,  in  consequence  of  the  great  numbers  who  had  the  talent  of 
bolting  their  "  feed  "  in  five  minutes.  A  gentleman  drew  my  attention 
to  one  of  these  quick  feeders,  who  had  been  timed  by  himself  and 
others,  and  who  had  been  observed  to  bolt  the  most  extraordinary 
quantities  of  angular  pieces  of  bacon,  beef,  and  mutton,  in  the  short 
period  of  two  minutes  and  a  half.  This  was  a  strange,  meagre,  sallow- 
looking  man,  with  black  hair  and  white  whiskers  and  beard,  as  if  his 
jaws  had  done  more  work  than  his  brains.  All  the  bolters  went  at  it 
just  as  quick  feeders  do  in  a  kennel  of  hounds,  helping  themselves  to 
a  whole  dish  without  ceremony,  cutting  off  immense  long  morsels,  and 
then  presenting  them  with  a  dexterous  turn  of  the  tongue  to  the  anx 
ious  esophagus,  would  launch  them  down  by  the  small  end  foremost, 
with  all  the  confidence  that  an  alligator  swallows  a  young  nigger,  into 
that  friendly  asylum  where  roast  and  boiled,  baked  and  stewed,  pud 
ding  and  pie,  all  that  is  good,  and  too  often  what  is  not  very  good, 
meet  for  all  sorts  of  noble  and  ignoble  purposes.  These  quick  feeders, 
with  scarce  an  exception,  were  gaunt,  sallow,  uncomely-looking  per 
sons,  incapable  of  inspiring  much  interest  out  of  their  coffins,  always 
excepting,  however,  the  performer  with  the  white  whiskers,  whose 
unrivalled  talent  in  the  present  state  of  the  drama,  might,  perhaps,  be 
turned  to  great  account  in  some  of  the  enlightened  capitals  of  Europe. 

Our  friends  in  St.  Louis  have  reason  to  feel  indebted  for 
the  subjoined  glowing  description  of  their  principal  hotel : 

At  the  tavern  where  I  lodged  all  was  dirt,  disorder,  and  want  of 
system.  A  pack  of  ragged  young  negroes  performed  the  service  of 
chambermaids  and  waiters,  and  did  it  about  as  well  as  a  pack  of  grown 
monkeys,  caught  in  the  Brazils,  would  do  in  three  months'  teaching. 
The  landlord,  who  to  me  was  always  very  obliging,  seemed  to  have 
no  sort  of  authority  either  over  his  servants  or  his  guests.  These  prin 
cipally  consisted  of  those  impudent,  smoking,  spitting  shopboys,  who 


104  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

are  dignified  in  the  United  States  with  the  appellation  of  "clerks."  I 
only  occasionally  dined  there  ;  but  it  was  always  the  same  thing.  At 
the  ringing  of  a  bell  these  "  clerks "  rushed  in  crowds  to  the  table, 
just  as  a  pack  of  hounds  or  a  drove  of  swine  would  to  their  feed.  I 
found  it  most  prudent  to  wait  a  short  time,  for  in  eight  minutes  they 
had  gobbled  everything  up,  and  had  again  rushed  out  to  take  a  glass 
of  swipes,  a  cigar,  and  go  to  their  "stores."  One  of  the  intolerable 
evils  of  practical  equality  is,  the  obliging  clean  people  to  herd  with 
dirty  ones.  The  landlord,  however,  seeing  my  way  of  doing  things, 
used  generally  to  send  me  something  hot  and  comfortable  to  eat  at  my 
leisure. 

After  allowing  Ins  mouth  to  water  over  the  various  "  good  " 
things  of  the  country,  which  were  spoiled  however  in  the 
cooking,  the  rock-cracker  indulges  in  a  passing  hit  at  Ameri 
can  avarice : 

The  country,  indeed,  abounds  with  what  is  good,  but  the  majority 
of  the  people  do  not  seem  to  care  how  they  live,  provided  it  does  not 
interfere  with  the  grand  exclusive  object  of  their  existence,  making 
money.  Wherever  I  go— with  the  fewest  exceptions — this  is  the  all- 
prevailing  passion.  The  word  money  seems  to  stand  as  the  represen 
tative  of  the  word  "  happiness "  of  other  countries.  In  other  lands 
we  see  rank,  distinction  in  society,  scientific  and  literary  acquirements, 
with  the  other  elevating  objects  that  embellish  and  dignify  human  life, 
pursued  by  great  numbers  with  constancy  and  ardour;  but  here  all 
other  avenues  to  advancement,  except  the  golden  one,  seem  nearly  un- 
trod — the  shortest  cut,  coule  qui  coute,  to  that  which  leads  to  ready 
money  being  the  favourite  one.  Where  this  sordid  passion  stifles  the 
generous  ones,  a  rapacious  selfishness  is  sure  to  establish  itself;  men 
cease  to  act  for  the  general  welfare,  and  society  at  length  resolves  it 
self  into  a  community,  the  great  object  of  every  individual  of  which  is 
to  grasp  as  much  as  will  last  as  long  as  himself. 

His  description  of  the  people  of  New  Orleans  is  brief, 
but  complimentary  : 

The  population  partook  strongly  of  the  character  of  the  latitude  it 
was  in,  a  medley  of  Spaniards,  Brazilians,  West  Indians,  French  Creoles, 
and  breeds  of  all  these  mixed  up  with  the  negro  stock.  I  think  I  never 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  105 

met  one  person  without  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  certainly, -taking  it 
altogether,  I  never  saw  such  a  piratical-looking  population  before. 
Dark,  swarthy,  thin,  whiskered,  smoking,  dirty,  reckless-looking  men; 
and  filthy,  ragged,  screaming  negroes  and  mulattoes,  crowded  even 
Rue  de  Chartres,  where  our  lodgings  were,  and  made  it  a  very  un 
pleasant  quarter  to  be  in.  Notwithstanding  it  was  Sunday,  the  market 
was  open,  and  there  I  saw  green  peas  (January  1st),  salads,  bouquets 
of  roses,  bananas  from  Havanna,  and  various  good  things  that  reminded 
me  I  was  in  the  30th  degree  of  N.  lat, 

He  does  not  appear,  however,  to  entertain  a  very  exalted 
opinion  of  the  religious  principles  of  the  "  Crescent  City :  " 

It  is  evident  that  the  future  population  of  New  Orleans  is  likely  to 
afford  a  rare  specimen  of  the  forms  society  can  be  made  to  take  in  a 
semi-tropical  climate,  where  the  passions  act  unrestrainedly,  and  where 
money  is  the  established  religion  of  the  country. 

He  is  singularly  mild  when  he  touches  on  my  adopted 
State  of  Arkansas : 

This  territory  of  Arkansas  was  on  the  confines  of  the  United  States 
and  of  Mexico,  and,  as  I  had  long  known,  was  the  occasional  residence  of 
many  timid  and  nervous  persons,  against  whom  the  laws  of  these  respec 
tive  countries  had  a  grudge.  Gentlemen,  who  had  taken  the  liberty  to 
imitate  the  signatures  of  other  persons  ;  bankrupts,  who  were  not  die- 
posed  to  be  plundered  by  their  creditors;  homicides,  horse-stealers,  and 
gamblers,  all  admired  Arkansas  on  account  of  the  very  gentle  and 
tolerant  state  of  public  opinion  which  prevailed  there  in  regard  to  such 
fundamental  points  as  religion,  morals  and  property.  Here,  flying 
from  a  stormy  world  of  chicane  and  trouble,  they  found  repose  from 
the  terrors  it  inspired,  and  looked  back  upon  it  somewhat  as  Dante's 
storm-tossed  mariner  did  upon  the  devouring  ocean. 

Here  is  another  pleasant  allusion  to  "  Jonathan  and  the 
Dollar": 

Such  is  the  plastic  nature  of  Jonathan,  his  indomitable  affection  for 
the  almighty  dollar,  and  his  enterprise  in  the  pursuit  of  it,  that  it  ia 
far  from  being  impossible  that  there  are  lots  of  his  brethren  at  this  time 
5* 


106  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

in  the  interior  of  China,  with  their  heads  shaved  and  long  pig- tails 
behind  them,  peddling  cuckoo  clocks  and  selling  wooden  nutmegs. 

I  give  an  agreeable  little  sketch  of  the  delights  of  boat- 
travelling  in  the  Southwest.  What  opinion  must  we  form 
of  this  scientific  traveller  when  he  introduces  the  name  of  a 
private  gentleman  into  his  vile  pages,  in  connection  with 
such  epithets  as  Mr.  Hector  is  coupled  with.  Persons  in 
distant  parts  of  the  country  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that 
this  blackguard,  as  described  by  Mr.  Featherstonhaugh,  is 
a  man  of  position  and  intelligence  ;  I  know  him  personally, 
and  his  manners  and  appearance  are  those  of  a  man  of  re 
finement  and  good  breeding.  Few  citizens  are  more  respected 
among  those  who  know  him  than  this  much  slandered  Mr. 
Rector.  How  can  Mr.  Featherstonhaugh  expect  to  be  be 
lieved  in  other  respects  when  he  perpetrates  such  base 
calumnies,  and  allows  his  opinions  to  be  so  warped  by  pre 
judice  : 

Upon  embarking  on  board  of  this  steamer  I  was  certainly  pleased 
with  the  prospect  that  presented  itself  of  enjoying  some  repose  and 
comfort  after  the  privations  and  fatigues  I  had  endured ;  but  never  was 
traveller  more  mistaken  in  his  anticipations !  The  vexatious  conduct 
of  the  drunken  youth  had  made  a  serious  innovation  upon  the  slight 
degree  of  personal  comfort  to  be  obtained  in  such  a  place,  but  I  had 
not  the  slightest  conception  that  that  incident  would  be  entirely  thrown 
into  the  shade  by  others  a  thousand  times  more  offensive,  and  that, 
from  the  moment  of  our  departure  from  the  post  of  Arkansas  until  our 
arrival  at  N:  ew  Orleans,  I  was  destined  to  a  series  of  brutal  annoyances 
that  extinguished  every  hope  of  repose,  or  a  chance  of  preserving  even 
the  decencies  of  existence. 

I  had  been  told  at  the  post  of  Arkansas  that  ten  passengers  were 
waiting  to  come  on  board,  and  that  several  of  them  were  notorious 
swindlers  and  gamblers,  who,  whilst  in  Arkansas,  lived  by  the  most 
desperate  cheating  and  bullying,  and  who  skulked  about  alternately 
betwixt  Little  Rock,  Natchez,  and  New  Orleans,  in  search  of  any 
plunder  that  violent  and  base  means  could  bring  into  their  hands. 
Some  of  their  names  were  familiar  to  me,  having  heard  them  frequently 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  10*7 

spoken  of  at  Little  Rock  a3  scoundrels  of  the  worst  class.  From  the 
moment  I  heard  they  were  coming  on  board  as  passengers  I  predicted 
to  Mr.  T********  that  every  hope  of  comfort  was  at  an  end.  But 
I  had  also  been  told  that  two  American  officers,  a  Captain  D*****  and 
a  Lieutenant  C****** — the  latter  a  gentleman  entrusted  with  the  con 
struction  of  the  military  road  in  Arkansas — were  also  coming  on  board  ; 
and  I  counted  upon  them  as  persons  who  would  be,  by  the  force  of 
education  and  a  consciousness  of  what  was  due  to  their  rank  as  officers, 
on  the  side  of  decency  at  least,  if  not  of  correct  manners ;  and  if  those 
pei-sons  had  passed  through  the  national  military  academy  at  West 
Point,  or  had  served  under  the  respectable  chief*  of  the  Topographical 
Bureau  at  Washington,  I  should  not  have  been  as  grievously  disap 
pointed  as  it  was  my  fate  to  be.  It  was  true  I  had  heard  that  these 
officers  had  been  passing  ten  days  with  these  scoundrels  at  a  low 
tavern  in  this  place,  in  the  unrestrained  indulgence  of  every  vicious 
extravagance,  night  and  day,  and  that  they  were  the  familiar  intimates 
of  these  notorious  swindlers.  Nevertheless,  believing  that  there  must 
be  some  exaggeration  in  this,  I  continued  to  look  forward  with  satis 
faction  to  having  them  for  fellow-passengers,  confident  that  they  would 
be  our  allies  against  any  gross  encroachments  of  the  others. 

Very  soon  after  I  had  retired  to  the  steamer  at  sunset,  the  whole 
clique  came  on  board,  and  the  effect  produced  on  us  was  something 
like  that  which  would  be  made  upon  passengers  in  a  peaceful  vessel 
forcibly  boarded  by  pirates  of  the  most  desperate  character,  whose 
manners  seemed  to  be  what  they  aspired  to  imitate.  Rushing  into  the 
cabin,  all  but  red-hot  with  whiskey,  they  crowded  round  the  stove  and 
excluded  all  the  old  passengers  from  it  as  much  as  if  they  had  no  right 
whatever  to  be  in  the  cabin.  Putting  on  a  determined  bullying  air  of 
doing  what  they  pleased  because  they  were  the  majority,  and  armed 
with  pistols  and  knives,  expressly  made  for  cutting  and  stabbing,  eight 
inches  long  and  an  inch  and  a  half  broad ;  noise,  confusion,  spitting, 
smoking,  cursing  and  swearing,  drawn  from  the  most  remorseless  pages 
of  blasphemy,  commenced  and  prevailed  from  the  jnoment  of  this 
invasion.  I  was  satisfied  at  once  that  all  resistance  would  be  vain,  and 
that  even  remonstrance  might  lead  to  murder ;  for  a  sickly  old  man  in 
the  cabin  happening  to  say  to  one  of  them  there  was  so  much  smoke 
he  could  hardly  breathe,  the  fellow  immediately  said,  "If  any  man 
tells  me  he  don't  like  my  smoking  I'll  put  a  knife  into  him." 

*  Colonel  Abert. 


108  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

As  soon  as  supper  was  over  they  all  went  to  gambling,  during 
which,  at  every  turn  of  the  cards,  imprecations  and  blasphemies  of  the 
most  revolting  kind  were  loudly  vociferated.  Observing  them  from  a 
distance  where  Mr.  T********  and  mvself  -were  seated,  I  perceived 
that  one  of  them  was  the  wretched  looking  fellow  I  had  seen  at  Hig- 
nite's,  on  my  way  to  Texas,  who  went  by  the  name  of  Smith,  and  that 
his  keeper  Mr.  Tunstall  was  with  him.  The  most  blasphemous  fellows 
amongst  them  were  two  men  of  the  names  of  Rector  and  Wilson. 
This  Rector  at  that  time  held  a  commission  under  the  national  govern 
ment  as  Marshal  for  the  territory  of  Arkansas,  who  was  a  man  of 
mean  stature,  low  and  sottish  in  his  manners,  and  as  corrupt  and  reck 
less  as  it  was  possible  for  a  human  being  to  be.  The  man  named 
Wilson  was  a  suttler  from  cantonment  Gibson,  a  military  post  about 
250  miles  up  the  Arkansas :  he  had  a  remarkable  depression  at  the 
bottom  of  his  forehead ;  and  from  this  sinus  his  nose  rising  with  a 
sudden  spring,  gave  a  fural  expression  to  his  face  that  exactly  resem 
bled  the  portrait  of  the  wicked  apprentice  in  Hogarth.  The  rubric  on 
his  countenance  too  was  a  faithful  register  of  the  numerous  journeys 
the  whiskey  bottle  had  made  to  his  proboscis. 

"We  have  in  the  following  extract  another  specimen  of 
this  impartial  author's  delicacy  in  introducing  private  per 
sons  by  name  into  such  a  work  as  his.  It  seems  the  chief 
crime  of  these  "  Mississippi  gentlemen  "  was  gambling.  I 
wonder  if  he  ever  heard  of  the  notorious  "hells"  of  London  ? 
Have  gentlemen  never  gamed  in  England  ? 

Vicksburg  is  a  modern  settlement  situated  on  the  side  of  a  hill  very 
much  abraded  and  cut  up  into  gullies  by  the  rains.  The  land  rises 
about  200  feet  above  the  Mississippi,  but  sinks  again  very  soon  to  the 
east,  forming  a  sort  of  ridge  which  appears  at  intervals  as  far  as  Baton 
Rouge.  On  returning  to  the  steamer  we  were  informed  that  eight  'or 
ten  gentlemen,  some  of  whom  were  planters  of  great  respectability,  and 
amongst  the  rest,  a  Mr.  Vick,  after  whom  the  place  was  called,  were 
coming  on  board  with  the  intention  of  going  to  New  Orleans.  This 
determined  us  to  continue  on  with  the  boat,  conceiving  that  we  should 
be  too  many  for  the  ruffians  in  the  cabin,  and  that  the  captain — who 
was  anxious  to  keep  up  a  good  understanding  with  the  planters — • 
would  now  interfere  to  keep  some  order  there.  But  supper  being  over, 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  109 

and  the  faro-table  spread  as  usual,  what  was  my  horror  and  astonish 
ment  at  seeing  these  Mississippi  gentlemen,  with  the  respectable  Mr. 
Vick,  sitting  down  to  faro  with  these  swindlers,  and  in  the  course  of  a 
very  short  time  gambling,  drinking,  smoking,  and  blaspheming  just  as 
desperately  as  the  worst  of  them  !  The  cabin  became  so  full  of  tobacco 
smoke  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  remain  in  it. 

I  shall  dismiss  Mr.  Featherstonhaugh  with  the  following 
extract,  from  which  there  seems  to  be  an  inclination  towards 
prejudice  against  America  in  England  : 

It  is  not  to  be  concealed,  nevertheless,  that  this  frequent  expression 
of  aversion  to  the  mother  country,  added  to  the  late  notorious  violations 
of  the  most  solemn  engagements  from  the  same  quarter,  have  raised  a 
strong  and  a  deep-rooted  prejudice  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  which, 
although  natural,  is  to  a  certain  extent  unjust,  because  there  is  little  or 
no  discrimination  observed  in  it. 

Mrs.  Trollope  is  in  every  respect  the  worthy  companion 
of  Mr.  Featherstonhaugh.  Her  name  is  so  peculiarly  illus 
trative  of  the  style  of  her  book,  that  one  feels  half  inclined 
to  suspect  that  it  was  assumed  for  the  occasion.  I  regret 
that  I  shall  be  unable  to  draw  copiously  from  her  highly 
variegated  pages.  I  shall  begin  with  the  two  general  ob 
servations  on  American  character,  which  follow : 

It  was  not  till  I  had  leisure  for  more  minute  observation,  that  I  felt 
aware  of  the  influence  of  slavery  upon  the  owners  of  slaves ;  when  I 
did,  I  confess  I  could  not  but  think  that  the  citizens  of  the  United 
States  had  contrived,  by  their  political  alchemy,  to  extract  all  that  was 
most  noxious  both  in  democracy  and  in  slavery,  and  had  poured  the 
strange  mixture  through  every  vein  of  the  moral  organization  of  their 
country. 

How  often  did  our  homely  adage  recur  to  me,  "  All  work,  and  no 
play,  would  make  Jack  a  dull  boy ;"  Jonathan  is  a  very  dull  boy.  We 
are  by  no  means  so  gay  as  our  lively  neighbors  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Channel;  but,  compared  with  the  Americans,  we  are  whirligigs  and 
tetotums ;  every  day  is  a  holiday,  and  every  night  a  festival. 


110  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

For  fear  that  our  northern  friends  should  be  mortified 
by  supposing  that  the  attention  of  such  talented  writers  had 
been  exclusively  devoted  to  the  South,  I  beg  leave  to  direct 
their  attention  to  what  Mrs.  Trollope  politely  says  of  them : 

Nothing  can  exceed  their  activity  and  perseverance  in  all  kinds  of 
speculation,  handicraft  and  enterprise,  which  promises  a  profitable 
pecuniary  result.  I  heard  an  Englishman,  who  had  been  long  resident 
in  America,  declare  that  in  following,  in  meeting,  or  in  overtaking,  in 
the  street,  on  the  road,  or  in  the  field,  at  the  theatre,  the  coffee-house, 
or  at  home,  he  had  never  overheard  Americans  conversing  without  the 
word  DOLLAR  being  pronounced  between  them.  Such  unity  of  purpose, 
such  sympathy  of  feeling,  can,  I  believe,  be  found  nowhere  else,  except, 
perhaps,  in  an  ant's  nest.  The  result  is  exactly  what  might  be  antici 
pated.  This  sordid  object,  for  ever  before  their  eyes,  must  inevitably 
produce  a  sordid  tone  of  mind,  and,  worse  still,  it  produces  a  seared 
and  blunted  conscience  on  all  questions  of  probity.  I  know  not  a 
more  striking  evidence  of  the  low  tone  of  morality  which  is  generated 
by  this  universal  pursuit  of  money,  than  the  manner  in  which  the 
New  England  States  are  described  by  Americans.  All  agree  in 
saying  that  they  present  a  spectacle  of  industry  and  prosperity  delight 
ful  to  behold,  and  this  is  the  district  and  the  population  most  constantly 
quoted  as  the  finest  specimen  of  their  admirable  country ;  yet  I  never 
met  a  single  individual  in  any  part  of  the  Union  who  did  not  paint 
these  New  Englanders  as  sly,  grinding,  selfish,  and  tricking.  The 
Yankees  (as  the  New  Englanders  are  called)  will  avow  these  qualities 
themselves  with  a  complacent  smile,  and  boast  that  110  people  on  the 
earth  can  match  them  at  overreaching  in  a  bargain.  I  have  heard 
them  unbiuehingly  relate  stories  of  their  cronies  and  friends,  which,  if 
believed  among  us,  would  banish  the  heroes  from  the  fellowship  of 
honest  men  for  ever ;  and  all  this  is  uttered  with  a  simplicity  which 
sometimes  led  me  to  doubt  if  the  speakers  knew  what  honor  and 
honesty  meant.  Yet  the  Americans  declare  that  "  they  are  the  most 
moral  people  upon  earth."  Again  and  again  1  have  heard  this  asserted, 
not  only  in  conversation,  and  by  their  writings,  but  even  from  the 
pulpit  Such  broad  assumption  of  superior  virtue  demands  examina 
tion,  and  after  four  years  of  attentive  and  earnest  observation  and 
inquiry,  my  honest  conviction  is,  thai  the  standard  of  moral  character 
in  the  United  States  is  very  greatly  lower  than  in  Europe.  Of  their 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  Ill 

religion,  as  it  appears  outwardly,  I  have  had  occasion  to  speak  fre 
quently  ;  I  pretend  not  to  judge  the  heart,  but,  without  any  unchari 
table  presumption,  I  must  take  permission  to  say,  that  both  Protestant 
England  and  Catholic  France  show  an  infinitely  superior  religious  and 
moral  aspect  to  mortal  observation,  both  as  to  reverend  decency  of 
external  observance,  and  as  to  the  inward  fruit  of  honest  dealing 
between  man  and  man. 

Mrs.  Trollope  being  a  native  of  England,  descants  of 
course  upon  our  style  of  dinners  and  parties,  and  being  a 
woman,  she  very  good-naturedly  introduces  the  ladies.  The 
gossiping  female  was  ugly  as  well  as  fat,  and  should,  there 
fore,  be  excused  for  what  she  says  of  her  own  sex.  Human 
nature  is  very  weak,  and  envy  overwhelmingly  predominant 
in  the  female  heart : 

They  seldom  indulge  in  second  courses,  with  all  their  ingenious 
temptations  to  the  eating  a  second  dinner ;  but  almost  every  table  has 
its  dessert  (invariably  pronounced  desart),  which  is  placed  on  the  table 
before  the  cloth  is  removed,  and  consists  of  pastry,  preserved  fruits, 
and  creams.  They  are  "  extravagantly  fond,"  to  use  their  own  phrase, 
of  puddings,  pies,  and  all  kinds  of  "sweets,"  particularly  the  ladies; 
but  are  by  no  means  such  connoisseurs  in  soups  and  ragouts  as  the 
gastronomes  of  Europe.  Almost  every  one  drinks  water  at  table  ;  and 
by  a  strange  contradiction,  in  the  country  where  hard  drinking  is 
more  prevalent  than  in  any  other,  there  is  less  wine  taken  at  dinner ; 
ladies  rarely  exceed  one  glass,  and  the  great  majority  of  females  never 
take  any.  In  fact,  the  hard  drinking,  so  universally  acknowledged, 
does  not  take  place  at  jovial  dinners,  but,  to  speak  plain  English,  in 
solitary  dram-drinking.  Coffee  is  not  served  immediately  after  dinner, 
but  makes  part  of  the  serious  matter  of  tea-drinking,  which  comes  some 
hours  later.  Mixed  dinner  parties  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  are  very 
rare,  and  unless  several  foreigners  are  present,  but  little  conversation 
passes  at  table.  It  certainly  does  not,  in  my  opinion,  add  to  the  well 
ordering  a  dinner  table,  to  set  the  gentlemen  at  one  end  of  it,  and 
the  ladies  at  the  other ;  but  it  is  very  rarely  that  you  find  it  otherwise. 

There  large  evening  parties  are  supremely  dull;  the  men  some 
times  play  cards  by  themselves,  but  if  a  lady  plays,  it  must  not  be  for 
money  ;  no  ecarte",  no  chess ;  very  little  music,  and  that  little  lamenta- 


112  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

bly  bad.  Among  the  blacks  I  heard  some  good  voices  siuging  in  tune; 
but  I  scarcely  ever  heard  a  white  American,  male  or  female,  go  through 
an  air  without  being  out  of  tune  before  the  end  of  it ;  nor  did  I  ever 
meet  any  trace  of  science  in  the  singing  I  heard  in  society.  To  eat 
inconceivable  quantities  of  cake,  ice,  and  pickled  oysters — and  to  show 
half  their  revenue  in  silks  and  satins,  seem  to  be  the  chief  object  they 
have  in  these  parties. 

The  most  agreeable  meetings,  I  was  assured  by  all  the  young 
people,  were  those  to  which  no  married  women  are  admitted  ;  of  the 
truth  of  this  statement  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  These  exclusive 
neetings  occur  frequently,  and  often  last  to  a  late  hour ;  on  these  occa 
sions,  I  believe,  they  generally  dance.  At  regular  balls  married  ladies 
are  admitted,  but  seldom  take  much  part  in  the  amusement  The 
refreshments  are  always  profuse  and  costly,  but  taken  in  a  most 
uncomfortable  manner.  I  have  known  many  private  balls,  where 
every  thing  was  on  the  most  liberal  scale  of  expense,  where  the  gentle 
men  sat  down  to  supper  in  one  room,  while  the  ladies  took  theirs, 
standing,  in  another. 

What  we  call  pic-nics  are  very  rare,  and  when  attempted,  do  not 
often  succeed  well.  The  two  sexes  can  hardly  mix  for  the  greater  part 
of  a  day  without  great  restraint  and  ennui ;  it  is  quite  contrary  to 
their  general  habits;  the  favorite  indulgences  of  the  gentlemen 
(smoking  cigars  and  drinking  spirits)  can  neither  be  indulged  in  with 
decency,  nor  resigned  with  complacency. 

The  ladies  have  strange  ways  of  adding  to  their  charms.  They 
powder  themselves  immoderately,  face,  neck,  and  arms,  with  pulverized 
starch;  the  effect  is  indescribably  disagreeable  by  daylight,  and  not 
very  favorable  at  any  time.  They  are  also  most  xinhappily  partial  to 
false  hair,  which  they  wear  in  surprising  quantities ;  this  is  the  more 
to  be  lamented,  as  they  generally  have  very  fine  hair  of  their  own.  I 
suspect  this  fashion  to  arise  from  an  indolent  mode  of  making  their 
toilet,  and  from  accomplished  ladies'  maids  not  being  very  abundant  • 
it  is  less  trouble  to  append  a  bunch  of  waving  curls  here,  there,  and 
every  where,  than  to  keep  their  native  tresses  in  perfect  order. 

Though  the  expense  of  the  ladies'  dress  greatly  exceeds,  in  propor 
tion  to  their  general  style  of  living,  that  of  the  ladies  of  Europe,  it  is 
very  far  (excepting  in  Philadelphia)  from  being  in  good  taste.  They 
do  not  consult  the  seasons  in  the  colors  or  in  the  style  of  their  costume  ; 
I  have  often  shivered  at  seeing  a  young  beauty  picking  her  way 
through  the  enow  with  a  pale  rose-colored  bonnet  set  on  the  very  top 
of  her  head. 


KMGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  113 

She  evidently  does  not  admire  the  dancing  of  our  Ame 
rican  ladies,  and  regrets  that  there  are  not  a  greater  number 
of  French  dancing-masters  among  them.  Our  men  are  good 
looking,  but,  like  the  ladies,  do  not  understand  the  mysteries 
of  "  carrying  themselves  "  to  Mrs.  Trollope's  satisfaction.  I 
am  especially  sorry  for  this,  as  "  comeliness  "  of  our  people  is 
about  the  only  thing  which  Mrs.  T.  was  pleased  to  think 
passable. 

I  fancied  I  could  often  trace  a  mixture  of  affectation  and  of  shyness 
in  their  little  mincing  unsteady  step,  and  the  ever-changing  position  of 
the  hands.  They  do  not  dance  well :  perhaps  I  should  rather  say  they 
do  not  look  well  when  dancing ;  lovely  as  their  faces  are,  they  cannot, 
in  a  position  that  exhibits  the  whole  person,  atone  for  the  want  of 
tournure,  and  for  the  universal  defect  in  the  formation  of  the  bust, 
which  is  rarely  full  or  gracefully  formed. 

I  never  saw  an  American  man  walk  or  stand  well ;  notwithstanding 
their  frequent  militia  drillings,  they  are  nearly  all  hollow-chested  and 
round-shouldered :  perhaps  this  is  occasioned  by  no  officer  daring  to 
say  to  a  brother  free-born  "  hold  up  your  head  ;"  whatever  the  cause, 
the  effect  is  very  remarkable  to  a  stranger.  In  stature,  and  in  physiog 
nomy,  a  great  majority  of  the  population,  both  male  and  female,  are 
strikingly  handsome,  but  they  do  not  know  how  to  do  their  owu 
honors ;  half  as  much  comeliness  elsewhere  would  produce  ten  times 
as  much  effect 

I  regret  exceedingly  that  circumstances  should  prevent 
my  enjoying  the  pleasure  of  presenting  to  my  readers  a  few 
extracts  from  Capt.  Hall  and  Mr.  Dickens,  for  although 
they  may  be  familiar  with  these  authors,  yet  they  probably 
would  not  have  objected  to  perusing  them  a  second  time,  as 
they  have  well  deserved  a  place  beside  Mr.  Feathersonhaugh 
and  Mrs.  Trollope.  But  the  extracts  I  have  made  will  be 
sufficient,  with  some  that  I  shall  add  from  the  Quarterly 
Review,  for  my  purpose  of  illustrating  the  spirit  of  the 
literary  world  towards  us. 

In  the  following  extracts  from  "  Men  and  Manners  in 


114  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

America,"  by  the  author  of  "  Cyril  Thornton "  and  "  The 
Stranger  in  America,"  by  Charles  William  Janson,  the 
same  tone  is  observable,  though  my  readers  are.  perhaps, 
less  familiar  with  them  than  the  preceding  distinguished 
commentators  on  our  country  : 

Men  and  Manners  in  America,  by  the  author  of  "  Cyril 

Thornton." 
Page  29: 

My  curiosity  was  somewhat  excited  by  the  high  reputation  which 
an  actor,  named  Forrest,  has  acquired  in  this  country.  I  have  since 
seen  this  rara  avis,  and,  I  confess,  the  praise  so  profusely  lavished  on 
him  does  appear  to  me  somewhat  gratuitous.  He  is  a  coarse,  vulgar 
actor,  without  grace,  without  dignity,  with  little  flexibility  of  feature, 
and  entirely  common-place  in  his  conception  of  character. 

Page  30 : 

Bunker's  Hotel,  New-York. 

Around  I  beheld  the  same  scene  of  gulping  and  swallowing  as  if 
for  a  wager,  which  my  observations  at  breakfast  had  prepared  me  to 
expect ;  each  individual  seemed  to  pitchfork  his  food  down  his  gullet. 

Page  116: 

A  traveller  has  no  sooner  time  to  look  about  him  in  Boston  than 
he  receives  the  conviction,  that  he  is  thrown  among  a  population  of  a 
character  differing  in  much  from  that  of  any  other  city  of  the  Union. 

Observe  him  in  every  different  situation, — at  the  funeral  and  the 
marriage  feast>  at  the  theatre  and  the  conventicle,  in  the  ball-room  and 
on  the  exchange,  and  you  will  set  him  down  as  of  Gad's  creatures  the 
least  liable  to  be  influenced  by  circumstances  appealing  to  the  heart  or 
the  imagination. 

Page  126: 

There  is  nothing  of  local  attachment  about  the  New  Englander.  *  * 
The  whole  Union  is  full  of  stories  of  his  cunning  frauds  and  the  impo 
sitions  he  delights  to  perpetrate  on  his  more  simple  neighbors.  When 
ever  his  love  of  money  comes  in  competition  with  his  zeal  for  religion^ 
the  latter  is  sure  to  give  way.  He  will  insist  on  the  scrupulous  obser- 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  115 

vance  of  the  Sabbath,  and  cheat  his  customer  Monday  morning.  *  *  * 
The  New  Englanders  are  not  an  amiable  people.  One  meets  in  them 
much  to  approve,  little  to  admire,  and  nothing  to  love.  *  *  *  Nature 
in  framing  a  Yankee  seems  to  have  given  him  double  brains  and  half  a 
heart. 

Page  169: 

In  truth  every  year  must  increase  the  perils  of  the  Federal  Consti 
tution  ;  like  other  bubbles,  it  is  liable  to  burst  at  any  time,  and  the 
world  will  then  discover  that  its  external  glitter  covered  nothing  but 
wind. 

Page  173: 

The  leader  who  gave  the  first  powerful  impulse  to  the  democratic 
tendencies  of  the  Constitution.  His  countrymen  call  him  great,  but,  in 
truth,  he  was  only  great  when  compared  with  those  by  whom  he  was 
surrounded.  *  *  *  We  seek  in  vain  in  the  writings  of  Jefferson  for 
indication  of  original  or  profound  thought.  *  *  *  He  has  been  truly 
called  a  good-hater.  His  resentments  were  not  vehement  and  fiery  ebul 
litions  gf  passion  burning  fiercely  for  a  time,  and  then  subsiding  into  in 
difference  or  dislike.  They  were  cool,  fiendlike,  and  ferocious ;  unsparing, 
undying,  unappeasable.  The  enmities  of  most  men  terminate  with  the 
death  of  their  object.  It  was  the  delight  of  Jefferson  to  trample  on 
the  graves  of  his  political  opponents. 

Page  174: 

The  moral  character  of  Jefferson  was  repulsive.  Continually  puling 
about  liberty,  equality,  and  the  degrading  curse  of  slavery,  he  brought 
his  own  children  to  the  hammer,  and  made  money  by  his  debaucheries. 
Even  at  his  death  he  did  not  manumit  his  numerous  offspring,  but  left 
them,  soul  and  body,  to  degradation  and  the  cart-whip.  A  daughter 
of  Jefferson's  was  sold  some  years  ago  by  public  auction  at  New-Orleans, 
and  purchased  by  a  society  of  gentlemen,  who  wished  to  testify,  by  her 
liberation,  their  admiration  of  the  statesman,  "  who  dreamt  of  freedom 
in  a  slave's  embrace."  This  single  line  gives  more  insight  to  the  cha 
racter  of  the  man  than  whole  volumes  of  panegyric.  It  will  outlive 
his  epitaph,  write  it  who  may. 


116  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Page  195 : 

In  the  present  generation  of  Americans  I  can  detect  no  symptom 
of  improving  taste  or  increasing  elevation  of  intellect. 

Page  196: 

There  is  at  this  moment  nothing  in  the  United  States  deserving  the 
name  of  library.  At  present  an  American  might  study  every  book  in 
the  limits  of  the  Union,  and  still  be  regarded  in  many  parts  of  Europe, 
especially  Germany,  as  a  man  compai'atively  ignorant. 

Page  224  : 

I  have  already  described  the  hall  of  the  Representatives.  I  would 
now  say  something  of  the  members  (of  Congress).  Their  aspect,  as  a 
body,  was  certainly  somewhat  different  from  any  idea  I  had  formed  of 
a  legislative  body.  Many  were  well-dressed,  and  of  appearance  suffi 
ciently  senatorial  to  satisfy  the  utmost  demands  even  of  a  severer  critic 
in  such  matters  than  I  pretend  to  be ;  but  a  large  proportion  undoubt 
edly  struck  me  as  vulgar  and  uncouth,  in  a  degree  which  nothing  in 
my  previous  experience  had  prepared  me  to  expect.  It  is  impossible 
to  look  at  these  men  without  at  once  receiving  the  conviction  that  they 
are  not  gentlemen  by  habit  or  education,  and  assuredly  in  no  society 
in  Europe  could  they  be  received  as  such. 

Page  260 : 

MR.  BURGESS'S  SPEECH  IN  CONGRESS. — Were  it  possible  to  give  any 
valuable  report  of  the  speech,  which  of  itself  would  fill  a  volume,  I 
would  willingly  appeal  to  it  as  exemplifying  the  justice  of  every  blun 
der,  both  of  taste  and  judgment,  which  I  have  attributed  to  American 
eloquence.  There  were  scraps  of  Latin  and  Shakspeare.  There  were 
words  without  meaning,  and  meanings  not  worth  the  trouble  of  em 
bodying  in  words.  There  were  bad  jokes,  and  bad  logic,  and  argu 
ments  without  logic  of  any  kind.  There  were  abundance  of  exotic 
graces  and  homebred  vulgarities;  of  elaborate  illustration,  of  estab 
lished  truths,  and  vehement  invective,  and  prosy  declamation  ;  of  con 
clusions  without  premises,  and  premises  that  led  to  no  conclusions;  and 
yet  this  very  speech  was  the  object  of  an  eight  days'  wonder  to  the 
whole  Union.  The  amount  of  praise  bestowed  on  it  in  the  public 
journals  would  have  been  condemned  as  hyperbolical  if  applied  to  an 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  117 

oration  of  Demosthenes.  Mr.  Burgess,  at  the  termination  of  the  session, 
was  feted  at  New- York;  and  Rhode  Island  exulted  in  the  verbal 
prowess  of  the  most  gifted  of  her  sons. 

Page  294: 

I  had  never  heard  of  Mrs.  Trollope ;  but  at  New-York  I  had  after 
wards  the  pleasure  of  becoming  acquainted  with  her,  and  can  bear 
testimony  to  her  conversation  being  imbued  with  all  the  grace,  spirit, 
and  vivacity  which  have  since  delighted  the  world  in  her  writings. 
How  far  Mrs.  Trollope's  volumes  present  a  just  picture  of  American 
society  it  is  not  for  me  to  decide,  though  I  can  offer  willing  testimony 
to  the  general  fidelity  of  her  descriptions.  *  *  *  But  her  claims  to 
the  gratitude  of  the  Cincinnatians  are  undoubtedly  very  great.  Her 
architectural  talent  has  beautified  the  city,  and  her  literary  powers 
have  given  it  celebrity.  For  nearly  thirty  years  Cincinnati  had  gradu 
ally  been  increasing  in  opulence,  and  enjoying  a  vulgar  and  obscure 
prosperity ;  corn  had  grown,  and  hogs  had  fattened ;  men  had  built 
houses,  and  women  borne  children ;  but  in  all  the  higher  senses  of 
urbane  existence  Cincinnati  was  a  nonentity.  "  It  was  unknown,  un- 
honored,  and  unsung."  Ears  polite  had  never  heard  of  it.  There  was 
not  the  glimmering  of  hope  that  it  would  be  mentioned  twice  in  a 
twelvemonth  on  the  Liverpool  exchange.  But  Mrs.  Trollope  came, 
and  a  zone  of  light  has  ever  since  encircled  Cincinnati.  Its  inhabitants 
are  no  longer  a  race  unknown  to  fame.  Their  manners,  habits,  virtues, 
tastes,  vices  and  pursuits  are  known  to  all  the  world ;  but,  strange  to 
say,  the  market-place  of  Cincinnati  is  yet  unadorned  by  the  statue  of 
the  great  benefactress  of  the  city. 

Page  296 : 

In  regard  to  the  passengers  (on  the  steamboat)  truth  compels  me  to 
say  that  any  thing  so  disgusting  in  human  shape  I  had  never  seen. 
Their  morals  and  their  manners  were  alike  detestable — a  cold  and  cal 
lous  selfishness,  a  disregard  of  all  the  decencies  of  society,  were  so  ap 
parent  in  feature,  word,  and  action,  that  I  found  it  impossible  not  to 
wish  that  their  catalogue  of  sins  had  been  enlarged  by  one  more — 
hypocrisy.  Of  hypocrisy,  however,  they  were  not  guilty.  The  con 
versation  in  the  cabin  was  interlarded  with  the  vilest  blasphemy,  not 
uttered  in  a  state  of  mental  excitement,  but  with  a  coolness  and  delib 
eration  truly  fiendlike.  There  was  a  Baptist  clergyman  on  board,  but 


118  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

his  presence  did  not  operate  as  a  restraint.  The  scene  of  drinking  and 
gambling  had  no  intermission  ;  it  continued  day  and  night.  The  cap 
tain  of  the  vessel,  so  far  from  discouraging  either  vice,  Avas  one  of  the 
most  flagrant  offenders  in  both.  He  was  decidedly  the  greatest  gam 
bler  on  board,  and  was  often  so  drunk  as  to  be  utterly  incapable  of 
taking  command  of  the  vessel.  *  *  *  One  circumstance  may  be 
mentioned,  which  is  tolerably  illustrative  of  the  general  habits  of  the 
people ;  in  every  steamboat  there  is  a  public  comb  and  hairbrush,  sus 
pended  by  a  string  from  the  ceiling  of  the  cabin.  These  utensils  are 
used  by  the  whole  body  of  the  passengers,  and  their  condition  the 
pen  of  Swift  alone  could  describe.  There  is  no  tooth-brush ;  simply, 
I  believe,  because  the  article  is  entirely  unknown  to  the  American 
toilet. 

Page  266 : 

On  the  following  evening  I  attended  the  President's  (General  Jack 
son's)  levee.  Three — I  am  not  sure  four — large  saloons  were  thrown 
open  on  the  occasion,  and  were  literally  crammed  with  the  most  sin 
gular  and  miscellaneous  assemblage  I  had  ever  seen.  *  *  *  The 
numerical  majority  of  the  company  seemed  of  the  class  of  tradesmen 
and  farmers,  respectable  men,  fresh  from  the  plough  or  the  counter, 
who,  accompanied  by  their  wives  and  daughters,  came  forth  to  greet 
their  President  and  enjoy  the  splendors  of  the  gala.  There  were  also 
generals,  and  commodores,  and  public  officers  of  every  grade,  and  fo 
reign  ministers,  and  members  of  Congress,  and  ladies  of  all  ages  and 
degrees  of  beauty,  from  the  fair  and  laughing  girl  of  fifteen  to  the  hag 
gard  dowager  of  seventy.  *  *  *  There  were  mayors  in  broadcloth 
and  corduroy?,  redolent  of  gin  and  tobacco,  and  mayors'  ladies  in  chintz 
or  russet,  with  huge  Paris  ear-rings  and  tawny  necks,  profusely  deco 
rated  with  beads  of  colored  glass.  There  were  tailors  from  the  board, 
and  judges  from  the  bench ;  lawyers,  who  opened  their  mouths  at  one 
bar,  and  tapsters  who  closed  them  at  another ;  in  short,  every  trade, 
calling,  craft,  and  profession,  appeared  to  have  sent  delegates  to  this  extra 
ordinary  convention.*  *  *  For  myself,  I  had  seen  too  much  of  the  United 
States  to  expect  any  thing  different,  and  certainly  anticipated  that  the 
mixture  would  contain  all  the  ingredients  I  have  ventured  to  describe. 
Yet,  after  all,  I  was  taken  by  surprise.  *  *  *  There  were  present  at 
this  levee  men  begrimed  with  all  the  sweat  and  filth  accumulated  in 
their  day's — perhaps  their  week's  labor.  There  were  sooty  artificers 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  119 

fresh  from  the  forge  or  the  workshop ;  and  one  individual  I  remember, 
either  a  miller  or  baker,  who,  wherever  he  passed,  left  marks  of  con 
tact  on  the  garments  of  the  company.  The  most  prominent  group, 
however,  in  the  assemblage  was  a  party  of  Irish  laborers,  employed  on 
some  neighboring  canal,  who  had  evidently  been  apt  scholars  in  the 
doctrine  of  liberty  and  equality,  and  were  determined  on  the  present 
occasion  to  assert  the  full  privileges  of  the  great  "  unwashed."  I  re 
marked  these  men  pushing  aside  the  more  respectable  portion  of  the 
company  with  a  certain  jocular  audacity  which  put  one  in  mind  of  the 
humors  of  Donnybrook  fair. 

Page  279 : 

During  the  time  I  was  engaged  at  the  levee,  my  servant  remained 
in  the  hall,  through  which  lay  the  entrance  to  the  apartments  occupied 
by  the  company,  and  the  day  following  gave  me  a  few  details  of  a 
scene  somewhat  extraordinary  but  sufficiently  characteristic  to  merit 
record.  *  *  *  It  appeared  that  the  refreshments  intended  for  the 
company,  consisting  of  punch  and  lemonade,  were  brought  by  the  ser 
vants,  with  the  intention  of  reaching  the  interior  saloons.  7So  sooner, 
however,  were  these  ministers  of  Bacchus  descried  to  be  approaching, 
than  a  rush  was  made  from  within,  and  the  whole  contents  of  the  trays 
were  seized  in  transitu  by  a  sort  of  coup -de-main ;  and  the  bearers, 
having  thus  rapidly  achieved  the  distribution  of  their  refreshments,  had 
nothing  for  it  but  to  return  for  a  fresh  supply.  This  was  brought,  and 
quite  as  compendiously  dispatched  ;  and  it  at  length  became  apparent 
that>  without  resorting  to  some  extraordinary  measures,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  accomplish  the  intended  voyage,  and  the  more  respectable 
portion  of  the  audience  would  be  suffered  to  depart  with  dry  palates; 
and  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  extent  of  the  hospitality  to  which  they 
were  indebted.  The  butler,  however,  was  an  Irishman,  and,  in  order 
to  baffle  further  attempts  at  intercepting  the  supplies,  had  recourse  to 
an  expedient  marked  by  all  the  ingenuity  of  his  countrymen.  *  *  * 
He  procured  an  escort,  armed  them  with  sticks,  and,  on  his  next  ad 
vance,  these  men  kept  flourishing  their  shillelahs  around  the  trays  with 
such  alarming  vehemence  that  the  predatory  horde,  who  anticipated  a 
repetition  of  their  plunder,  were  scared  from  their  prey,  and,  amid 
a  scene  of  execration  and  laughter,  the  refreshments,  thus  guarded, 
accomplishe  1  their  journey  to  the  saloon  in  safety. 


120  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Page  346 : 

The  inhabitants  (of  Georgia)  bear  a  bad  character  in  other  parts  of 
the  Union.  They  are,  perhaps,  a  little  savage  and  ferocious,  and,  in 
regard  to  morals,  one  is  tempted  occasionally  to  regret  that  the  gibbet 
is  not  abroad  as  well  as  the  schoolmaster.  From  Fort  Mitchell,  I  tra 
velled  with  three  attorneys,  two  storekeepers,  two  cotton  planters  and 
a  slave  dealer.  My  notions  of  the  sort  of  conversation  prevalent  in 
Newgate  may  not  be  very  accurate,  but  I  much  doubt  whether  it 
would  be  found  to  indicate  such  debasement,  both  of  thought  and 
principle,  as  that  to  which  I  was  condemned  to  listen  during  this 
journey.  Georgia  receives  large  accessions  of  population  in  the  off 
scourings  of  other  slave  States.  The  restraints  of  law  are  little  felt, 
and  it  is  the  only  State  where  I  heard  it  publicly  asserted  that  justice 
is  not  purely  administered. 

The  Stranger  in  America,  by  Charles  William  Janson. 
Page  9  : 

While  at  our  first  meal  on  board,  a  specimen  of  American  effrontery 
was  given  us  by  Bob,  the  cook-boy,  a  sprig  of  a  true-born  Yankee, 
who,  reaching  his  dirty  arm  across  the  table,  took  a  tumbler  and 
deliberately  filled  it  with  equal  parts  of  rum  and  water.  He  looked 
round,  and  familiarly  nodding  his  head,  said,  "  Good  folks,  here's  to 
you." 

Page  29: 

At  Boston  they  distil  large  quantities  of  that  detestable  spirit  called 
New  England  Rum.  It  is  made  of  damaged  molasses,  and  its  baleful 
effects  are  severely  felt  in  every  part  of  the  Union.  In  Virginia,  the 
Carolinas,  and  Georgia,  it  foments  quarrels,  which  produce  combats, 
like  bears  and  wolves,  gouging,  biting,  kicking,  and  tearing  each  other's 
flesh,  of  which  I  shall  make  particular  mention  when  I  speak  of  those 
States. 

Page  309 : 

On  a  branch  of  this  river  (the  Alligator,  in  North  Carolina),  in  the 
year  I  have  already  named,  lived  a  wealthy  planter,  by  name  John 
Foster.  With  this  man  I  remained  several  days,  and  in  him  learned 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  121 

something  of  a  Southern  Planter.  *  *  *  Mine  host  had  led  me  over 
the  plantation,  and  we  arrived,  almost  exhausted  from  the  effects  of  a 
scorching  sun,  at  the  dinner  hour.  Our  meal  consisted  of  venison  and 
a  variety  of  vegetables,  which  we  diluted  with  apple  brandy  and  water. 
This  is  a  most  detestable  beverage.  *  *  *  I  had  no  choice  of  spirits, 
and  to  drink  water  undiluted  is  often  of  dangerous  tendency.  *  *  * 
Thus  is  an  Alligator  tavern  provided  with  liquors,  and,  in  fact,  it  was 
as  well  supplied  as  any  other  place  of  public  resort  in  the  district*  *  * 
A  different  circumstance  produced  on  me,  while  at  dinner,  more  dis 
gust  than  even  the  fumes  of  the  deleterious  drink.  This  was  the  offi 
cious  attendance  of  two  wenches,  three-parts  grown,  without  even  the 
covering  our  first  mother  made  for  herself  after  her  expulsion  from 
Paradise.  *  *  *  The  effluvia  arising  from  the  body  of  a  negro  in  the 
month  of  July  are  by  no  means  odoriferous ;  hence  I  could  have  dis 
pensed  with  one  of  these  placed,  in  compliment,  behind  my  chair.  To 
complete  the  scene,  Mr.  Foster's  daughter,  a  fine  girl  of  sixteen,  dined 
at  our  table,  and  gave  orders  to  the  naked  creatures  of  her  own  sex 
with  the  most  perfect  sang  froid. 

What  I  shall  give  from  the  Foreign  Quarterly  Review, 
of  January.  1844,  is  merely  an  example  of  the  tone  of  the 
periodical  and  daily  press  towards  us  for  years  past,  as  those 
will  admit  who  have  been  familiar  with  that  branch  of  Eng 
lish  literature.  The  article  referred  to,  is  on  the  Poets  of 
America,  and  commences  as  follows  :  "  AMERICAN  POETRY 
always  reminds  us  of  the  advertisement  headed,  '  the  best 
substitute  for  silver ;'  if  it  be  not  the  genuine  thing  it 
'looks  just  as  handsome,  and  is  miles  out  of  sight  cheaper.'  " 

We  are  far  from  regarding  it  as  a  just  ground  of  reproach  to  the 
Americans,  that  their  poetry  is  little  better  than  a  far-off  echo  of  the 
father-land ;  but  we  think  it  is  a  reproach  to  them  that  they  should  be 
eternally  thrusting  their  pi-etensions  to  the  poetical  character  in  the 
face  of  educated  nations.  In  this  particular,  as  in  most  others,  what 
they  want  in  the  integrity  of  their  assumption,  they  make  up. in 
swagger  and  impudence.  To  believe  themselves,  they  are  the  finest 
poets  in  the  whole  world  :  before  we  close  this  article  we  hope  to  satisfy 
the  reader  that,  with  two  or  three  exceptions,  there  is  not  a  poet  of 
mark  in  the  whole  Union. 

6 


122  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

A  very  original  notion  of  our  moral  and  physical  nature 
is  advanced  in  the  following : 

They  have  felled  forests,  drained  marshes,  cleared  wildernesses, 
built  cities,  cut  canals,  laid  down  railroads  (too  much  of  this  too  with 
other  people's  money),  and  worked  out  a  great  practical  exemplifica 
tion,  in  an  amazingly  short  space  of  time,  of  the  political  immoralities 
and  social  vices  of  which  a  democracy  may  be  rendered  capable. 

There  must  be  a  national  heart,  and  national  sympathies,  and  an 
intellectual  atmosphere  for  poetry.  There  must  be  the  material  to 
work  upon  as  well  as  to  work  with.  The  ground  must  be  prepared 
before  the  seed  is  cast  into  it,  and  tended  and  well-ordered,  or  it  will 
become  choked  with  weeds,  as  American  literature,  such  as  it  is,  is  now 
choked  in  every  one  of  its  multifarious  manifestations.  As  yet  the 
American  is  horn-handed  and  pig-headed,  hard,  persevering,  unscrupu 
lous,  carnivorous,  ready  for  all  weathers,  with  an  incredible  genius  for 
lying,  a  vanity  elastic  beyond  comprehension,  the  hide  of  a  buffalo,  and 
the  shriek  of  a  steam-engine;  'a  retil  nine-foot  breast  of  a  fellow,  steel 
twisted  and  made  of  horse-shoe  nails,  tho  r<st  of  him  being  cast  iron 
with  steel  springs.' 

The  subjoined  picture  of  American  society  is  highly 
interesting,  as  it  emanates  from  the  leading  British  Period 
ical.  It  is  often  gratifying  to  know  what  our  neighbors 
think  of  us.  The  English  have  been  always  very  candid : 

Peopled  originally  by  adventurers  of  all  classes  and  casts,  America 
has  been  consistently  replenished  ever  since  by  the  dregs  and  outcasts 
of  all  other  countries.  Spaniards,  Portuguese,  French  and  English, 
Irish,  Welsh,  and  Scotch,  have  from  time  to  time  poured  upon  her 
coasts  like  wolves  in  search  of  the  means  of  life,  living  from  hand  to 
mouth,  and  struggling  outward  upon  the  free  Indians  whom  they 
hunted,  cheated,  demoralized,  and  extirpated  in  the  sheer  fury  of 
hungry  and  fraudulent  aggrandizement.  Catholics,  Unitarians,  Cal- 
vimsts  and  Infidels  were  indiscriminately  mixed  up  in  this  work  of 
violent  seizure  and  riotous  colonization,  settling  down  at  last  into  sec 
tional  democracies,  bound  together  by  a  common  interest,  and  a 
common  distrust,  and  evolving  an  ultimate  form  of  self-government 
nnd  federal  centralization  1o  keep  the  whole  in  check. 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  123 

This  brigand  confederation  grew  larger  and  larger  every  day,  with 
a  rapidity  unexampled  in  the  history  of  mankind,  by  continual  acces 
sions  from  all  parts  of  the  habitable  -world.  All  it  required  to 
strengthen  itself  was  human  muscles ;  it  lacked  nothing  but  workmen, 
craftsmen,  blood,  bones,  and  sinews.  Brains  were  little  or  nothing  to 
the  purpose — character,  morality,  still  less.  "A  long  pull,  a  strong 
pull,  and  a  pull  altogether,"  was  the  one  thing  needful.  Every  new 
hand  was  a  help,  no  matter  what  brand  was  upon  its  palm.  The 
needy  and  dissolute,  tempted  by  the  prospect  of  gain — the  debased, 
glad  to  escape  from  the  old  society  which  had  flung  them  off — the  cri 
minal,  flying  from  the  laws  they  had  outraged — all  flocked  to  America 
as  an  open  haven  of  refuge  for  the  Pariahs  of  the  wide  earth.  Thus 
her  population  was  augmented  and  is  daily  augmenting ;  thus  her  re 
publics  are  armed;  thus  her  polite  assemblies  and  select  circles  are 
constantly  enlivened  by  fresh  draughts  of  kindred  spirits  and  foreign 
celebrities — the  Sheriff  Parkiuses,  the  General  Holts,  the  town-treasurer 
Flinns,  the  chartist  secretary  Campbells,  and  the  numerous  worthies 
who,  having  successfully  swindled  their  own  countrymen,  seek  an  ele 
gant  retirement  in  the  free  States  of  the  Union  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of 
their  plunder.  The  best  blood  America  boasts  of  was  injected  into 
her  at  the  time  of  the  Irish  rebellion,  and  she  looks  up  with  a  justifia 
ble  pride,  taking  into  consideration  the  peculiar  quality  of  her  other 
family  and  heraldic  honors,  to  such  names  as  those  of  Emmet  and 
M'Nevin. 

Can  poetry  spring  out  of  an  amalgam  so  monstrous  and  revolting? 
Can  its  pure  spirit  breathe  an  air  so  fetid  and  stifling  ?  You  might  as 
reasonably  expect  the  vegetation  of  the  tropics  on  the  wintry  heights 
of  Lapland.  The  whole  state  of  American  society,  from  first  to  last, 
presents  insuperable  obstacles  to  the  cultivation  of  letters,  the  expansion 
of  intellect,  the  formation  of  great  and  original  minds.  There  is  an 
instinctive  tendency  in  it  to  keep  down  the  spiritual  to  the  level  of 
the  material.  The  progress  is  not  upwards  but  onwards.  There  must 
be  no  "  vulgar  great "  in  America,  lifted  on  wings  of  intellectual  power 
above  the  level  of  the  community. 

Our  orators  and  editors  appear  to  enjoy  no  brighter  re 
putation  with  them  than  the  mass  of  society — 

The  orator  is  compelled  to  address  himself  to  the  low  standard  of 
the  populace ;  he  must  strew  his  speech  with  flowers  of  Billingsgate 


124  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

with  hyperbolical  expletives,  and  a  garnish  of  falsehoods,  to  make  it 
effective,  and  rescue  it  from  the  chance  of  being  serious  or  refined.  The 
preacher  must  preach  down  to  the  fashion  of  his  congregation,  or  look 
elsewhere  for  bread  and  devotion.  The  newspaper  editor  must  make 
his  journal  infamous  and  obscene  if  he  would  have  it  popular;  for  let 
it  never  be  supposed  that  the  degradation  of  the  American  press  is  the 
work  of  the  winters  in  it,  but  of  the  frightful  eagerness  of  the  public 
appetite  for  grossness  and  indecency. 

How  conveniently  oblivious  the  learned  reviewer  appears 
to  be  of  those  passages  in  our  history,  in  which  England  so 
conspicuously  figured.  He  may  possibly  though  never  have 
heard  of  the  Revolution,  or  the  war  of  1812;  and  may  be 
ignorant  that  such  battles  as  Yorktown  and  New  Orleans 

O 

have  ever  been  fought : — 

One  grand  element  is  wanted  for  the  nurture  of  the  poetical  cha 
racter  in  America: — she  has  no  traditions.  She  started  at  once  into 
life,  rude,  rugged,  savage,  self-confident.  She  has  nothing  to  fall  back 
upon  in  her  history — no  age  of  gold — no  fabulous  antiquity — no  fairy 
land.  The  want  of  historical  elements  is  supplied  by  the  intensity  of 
the  glorification.  The  two  great  subjects  are  Liberty  and  the  Indians. 

They  don't  admire  the  subject  of  '•  Liberty  and  the  In 
dians." 

Two  more  unfortunate  topics  could  not  have  been  hit  upon.  All 
men  are  born  equal,  says  the  declaration  of  independence ;  we  arc  the 
freest  of  the  free,  says  the  poet;  and  so  the  slave-owner  illustrates  the 
proposition  by  trafficking  in  his  own  sons  and  daughters,  and  enlarging 
his  seraglio  to  increase  his  live  stock.  lie  is  his  own  lusty  breeder  of 
equal-born  men.  A  curious  instance  of  American  liberty  is  cited  by  ;i 
traveller,  who  informs  us  that  he  knows  a  lady  residing  near  Washing 
ton,  who  is  in  the  habit  of  letting  out  her  own  natural  brother!  As 
to  the  Indians,  nothing  can  exceed  the  interest  these  writers  take  in 
their  picturesque  heads  and  flowing  limbs — except  the  interest  they 
take  in  their  lands.  Nobody  could  ever  suspect,  while  reading  these 
fine  effusions  upon  the  dignity  and  beauty  of  the  Indians,  that  they 
were  written  by  people,  through  whose  cupidity,  falsehood  and  cruelty, 
the  Indians  have  been  stripped  of  their  possessions,  and  left  to  starve 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  125 

and  rot ;  that  while  they  were  thus  evincing  the  tenderest  regard  for 
the  Indian  nations  in  octosyllabic  verse,  Congress  was  engaged,  through 
its  servants,  in  suborning  Indian  chiefs,  and  making  them  drunk,  to 
entrap  them  into  deeds  of  sale  of  their  hunting  grounds ;  and,  as  if 
these  and  similar  atrocities  were  not  enough  to  mark  the  difference 
between  the  poetry  and  the  policy  of  the  States,  importing  blood 
hounds  from  Cuba  to  hunt  the  Indians  of  Florida  !  It  is  quite  impos 
sible  to  account  for  the  incredible  folly  which  tempts  them  to  indulge 
in  such  themes,  unless  we  refer  it  to  the  same  infatuation  Avhich  makes 
them  boast  of  their  morality  in  the  face  of  their  filthy  newspaper  press, 
and  of  their  honesty  in  the  teeth  of  pocket-picking  Pennsylvania. 

Speaking  of  sonic  of  our  national  songs,  he  says  : 

This  standing  invitation  to  go  to  war,  although  there  be  no  foe  to 
fight  withal,  hits  off  with  felicity  the  empty  bluster  of -the  national 
character.  The  call  upon  the  "immortal  patriots"  to  "rise  once  more" 
is  sung  at  all  hours  in  every  corner  of  the  Union  by  men,  women,  and 
children  ;  and  it  is  very  likely  that  every  day  the  "  heaven-born  band  " 
get  up  out  of  their  beds  they  believe  they  are  actually  rising  once  more 
to  defend  their  rights  and  their  shore.  This  is  the  key  to  the  popu 
larity  of  "Hail,  Columbia."  It  flatters  the  heroic  qualities  of  the 
people,  without  making  any  further  requisition  upon  their  valor  than 
that  they  shall  implicitly  believe  in  it  themselves.  "  The  Star-spangled 
Banner"  is  constructed  on  the  same  principle,  and  blows  the  "heaven- 
born"  bubble  with  equal  enthusiasm;  closing  with  the  vivacity  of 
a  cock  that  knows  when  to  crow  on  the  summit  of  its  odoriferous  hill. 

Here  is  another  condensed  commentary  on  our  society 
and  manners : 

These  are  genuine  samples  of  the  cock-a-doodle-doo  style  of  warlike 
ballads.  But  the  most  remarkable  writer  of  this  class  was  Robert 
Paine,  a  heaven-born  genius,  who  is  said  to  have  ruined  himself  by  his 
love  of  the  "  wine-cup  " — which  is  American  for  mint-julep  and  gin- 
sling.  He  was  so  depraved  in  his  tastes,  and  so  insensible  to  the  ele 
gant  aspirations  of  his  family,  as  to  marry  an  actress!  It  is  amusing 
and  instructive  to  learn  from  the  American  editor  that  this  monstrous 
union  between  two  professors  of  two  kindred  arts  was  regarded  with 
euch  genteel  horror  in  the  republican  circles,  as  to  lead  to  poor  Paine's 


126  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

"exclusion  from  fashionable  society,  and  to  a  disagreement  with  his 
father,  which  lasted  till  his  death!  "  The  false  nature  of  all  this  is  as 
striking  as  its  pseudo  fine  breeding ;  and  it  shows  how  much  bigotry 
and  intolerance  may  be  packed  under  the  surface  of  a  large  pretension 
to  liberality  and  social  justice.  Certainly,  there  is  nothing  so  vulgar 
and  base  as  American  refinement — nothing  so  coarse  as  American  deli 
cacy — nothing  so  tyrannical  as  American  freedom. 

Read  his  summing-up  on  American  literature : 

Stepping  out  of  the  literature  of  England  into  that  of  America,  is 
like  going  back  twenty  years  into  a  sort  of  high-life-below-stairs  resus 
citation  of  the  style  of  that  period. 

The  following  occurs  in  his  closing  paragraph : 

Literature  is,  consequently,  the  least  tempting  of  all  conceivable 
pursuits ;  and  men  must  float  with  the  stream,  and  live  as  they  can 
with  the  society  in  which  they  have  been  educated.  Even  were  the 
moral  materials  by  which  this  vast  deposit  of  human  dregs  is  supplied, 
other  than  they  are — purer,  wiser,  and  more  refined, — still  America 
could  not  originate  or  support  a  literature  of  her  own,  so  long  as  Eng 
lish  productions  can  be  imported  free  of  cost,  and  circulated  through 
the  Union  at  a  cheaper  rate  than  the  best  productions  of  the  country. 

And  yet  there  are  Americans,  who,  in  order  to  extenuate 
their  senseless  devotion  to  England,  will  obstinately  close 
their  eyes  to  the  fact  that  such  things  have  been  written  of 
us  in  the  '"  fatherland."  But  when  they  are  compelled  to 
remember  that  an  article,  rich  in  such  extracts  as  the  pre 
ceding,  has  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  leading  Quarterly  of 
Great  Britain,  they  will  scarcely  dare  contend  that  English 
men  tenderly  love  us.  The  simple  statement  of  so  absurd  a 
proposition  must  at  once  become  its  refutation. 

When  the  learned  and  elegant  "  Foreign  Quarterly"  can 
descend  to  such  epithets  as  are  so  profusely  applied  to  us  in 
the  above  extracts,  it  is  unnecessary  to  cull  "  Flowers  of 
Billingsgate  "  from  the  more  licentious  daily  press.  When 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  127 

Featherstonhatigh,  Trollope,  and  Hall,  have  made  their  re 
putations,  and  Dickens  increased  his,  by  such  slanderous 
attacks  on  America,  it  is  natural  that  they  should  have 
crowds  of  humble  imitators  in  their  calumnious  slang.  But 
I  shall  dismiss  English  writers,  and  turn  to  some  of  their 
specified  accusations. 

If  spitting  be,  as  the  English  fain  would  have  it,  a  na 
tionality,  let  us  boldly  spit  it  into  respectability.  Our  own 
timorous  apologies  for  this  heinous  sin  of  expectoration,  only 
encourages  our  rivals  to  lecture  us  upon  it.  I  am  no  advo 
cate  of  the  habit,  but  at  war  as  I  consider  it  to  be  with  good 
taste,  I  am  willing  to  see  it  carried  to  excess,  if  but  to  set 
at  defiance  the  impertinent  criticism  of  Englishmen.  I  of 
ten  feel  heartily  inclined  to  become  a  tobacco-chewer  my 
self,  in  order  to  show  my  individual  contempt  for  these  offi 
cious  meddlers.  Who  appointed  them  moral  regulators  of 
our  domestic  economy  ?  or  what  right  have  they  to  interfere 
with  our  practices,  whatever  they  may  be  ?  Their  presump 
tion  is  founded  on  our  condescending  to  deprecate  their  at 
tacks. 

In  what  does  it  concern  John  Bull,  if  each  Western  far 
mer,  and  Southern  planter,  should  be  pleased  to  fill  with 
tobacco  juice  a  pool,  that  would  float  a  whole  hogshead  of 
the  weed  ?  He  might  not  approve  of  it.  he  might  even  be 
disgusted  by  it,  but  I  would  have  him  taught  better  manners 
than  to  sneer  at  it.  I  am  willing  that  our  spitting  should 
be  a  source  of  annoyance  to  him,  but  not  of  contempt.  When 
we  have  taught  him  to  entertain  a  proper  respect  for  us,  he 
will  discuss  with  considerate  caution  even  what  we  ourselves 
may  be  willing  to  confess  a  fault.  When  he  is  convinced 
that  we  have  attained  such  a  position  in  the  world,  as  to 
enable  us  even  to  spit  with  impunity,  he  may  still  attack  the 
habit,  but  will  no  longer  attempt  to  ridicule  it. 

Although   I  am  a  strong  believer  in   every  individual's 


128  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

being  permitted  to  do  what  happens  to  be  most  in  accord 
ance  with  his  own  fancy,  provided  lie  does  not  interfere  with 
the  rights  of  his  neighbors,  yet,  as  I  said  before,  I  am  no  ad 
vocate  of  the  peculiarly  free-and-easy  habit  of  tobacco- 
chewing.  I  regard  it  as  being  inconsistent  with  that  scrupu 
lous  neatness  in  household  arrangements,  which  is  the  basis 
of  true  elegance.  I  believe  it  is  often  most  inconvenient  to 
him  who  indulges  in  it ;  but  for  the  life  of  me,  I  cannot  dis 
cover  any  thing  about  it  so  especially  offensive.  I  contend 
that  it  is  superlatively  disgusting  to  the  English,  merely  be 
cause  it  is  an  American  habit.  Hating  us  with  an  intensity 
that  helpless  rage  can  only  know,  it  is  their  chiefest  delight 
to  cavil  at  us.  And  finding  nothing  more  serious  to  object 
to,  our  earlier  traducers  seized  upon  this,  and  each  hireling 
caterer  to  the  morbid  feeling  against  America  in  England, 
attempts  a  facetious  improvement  on  the  stereotyped  jokes 
of  his  predecessors.  By  constant  exaggeration,  a  simple  ha 
bit  has  grown  into  a  great  bugbear,  whose  terrors  no  Eng 
lishman,  who  crosses  the  Atlantic,  ever  omits  to  enlarge  upon. 
What  after  all  is  there  so  unbearably  revolting  about  spit 
tle?  Our  Saviour  in  one  of  his  earlier  miracles  "spat  on 
the  ground,  made  clay  of  the  spittle,  and  anointed  the  eyes 
of  the  blind  man  with  the  clay."  "  And  he  said  unto  him, 
go  wash  in  the  pool  of  Siloam.  He  went  his  way  therefore, 
and  washed,  and  came  seeing."  I  have  with  a  crowd  of  pil 
grims  gone  down  to  drink  from  this  very  pool,  for  the  water 
had  borrowed  new  virtue  from  the  miracle. 

A  spittoon  is  certainly  rather  an  unsightly  sort  of  an  ar 
ticle,  but  I  have  no  recollection  of  ever  being  seriously  af 
fected,  by  witnessing  the  ejection  of-  the  amber  colored 
juice,  by  the  most  inveterate  devotee  to  the  weed.  But 
admitting  that  the  leniency  with  which  I  regard  tobacco 
chewing,  is  the  result  of  prejudice,  and  that  the  habit  is  as 
stomach-turning  as  the  English  profess  to  consider  it.  I 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  129 

still  contend  that  its  terrors  are  heightened  by  being  most 
prevalent  in  America.  Other  nations  have  peculiarities  ;  in 
finitely  more  trying  to  mawkishly  delicate  sensibilities  than 
the  chewing  of  tobacco,  which  are  not  only  passed  over  with 
out  condemnation,  but  English  travellers  pride  themselves 
upon  the  ease  with  which  they  conform  to  them.  The  Eng 
lish  at  home  are  guilty  of  things  positively  nauseating,  yet 
the  stoutest  among  them,  who  would  pretend  great  indiffer 
ence  to  a  whizzing  cannon  ball,  professes  to  be  faintishly  af 
fected  by  the  sight  of  a  tobacco  quid. 

What  could  be  better  calculated,  under  ordinary  cir 
cumstances,  to  destroy  an  appetite,  though  as  vigorous  as 
an  Englishman's,  than  to  see  some  awkward  lout  groping 
with  his  thumb  for  the  stuffing  of  a  turkey,  or  dabbling  in 
the  gravy  with  his  fingers  ?  Yet  what  upstart  islander  has 
ever  preached  a  crusade  against  the  Turks,  because  they 
did  not  introduce  knives  and  forks  at  their  tables,  but  primi 
tively  preferred  their  "pickers  and  stealers."  In  this  in 
stance,  his  railing  would  have  a  dash  of  patriotism  and  com 
mon  sense  about  it ;  for  if  successful,  he  might  materially 
increase  the  trade  of  Sheffield  by  his  efforts.  But  so  far 
from  his  objecting  to  the  Oriental  style  of  feeding,  a  chapter 
in  almost  every  English  book  of  travels  in  the  East,  is  de 
voted  to  the  infinite  grace  with  which  the  author  sat  cross- 
legged,  and  took  his  food  with  his  fingers. 

In  Paris,  at  the  end  of  a  dinner,  a  small  cup  of  per 
fumed  water  is  placed  before  each  guest,  with  which  he  is 
expected  thoroughly  to  rinse  his  mouth,  and  then  spirt,  de 
posit,  or  let  fall  the  water — whichever  term  you  prefer — 
in  a  silver  basin  which  accompanies  it.  So  far  from  an 
Englishman's  discovering  any  thing  objectionable  about  this 
habit,  he  highly  approves  it,  and  is  rapidly  introducing  it 
into  England.  Next  to  the  delight  enjoyed  during  his  din 
ner,  nothing  appears  to  afford  him  so  high  a  degree  of  satis- 
6* 


130  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

faction,  as  this  rather  too  French  operation  after  it.  Al 
though  I  have  reason  to  suspect — from  the  fact  of  water 
being  scarce  in  Paris,  and  the  contents  of  the  little  cups 
always  being  highly  unctuous  to  the  touch — that  the  per 
fumed  water  famished  at  the  cafes  washes  more  than  one 
mouth  during  the  day  ;  yet  an  Englishman  rejoices  in  its 
use,  and  still  professes,  like  the  Turks,  to  make  cleanliness  a 
part  of  their  religion.  If  spitting  be  objectionable  on  gen 
eral  principles,  it  seems  to  me  that,  as  little  fastidious  as  I 
am,  I  might  be  excused  for  considering  it  disgusting  at  table. 
But  although  the  femininely  frail  nerves  of  an  Englishman 
instantly  become  relaxed  in  the  presence  of  a  spittoon  on 
the  floor  in  America,»yet  he  deems  the  same  article  an  ap 
propriate  ornament  of  a  dinner  table  in  France.  This  seem 
ing  contradiction  is  perfectly  accountable.  One  custom  is 
American,  the  other  French.  France  assumes,  and  main 
tains  the  privilege  of  setting  the  fashions  for  the  politer 
portion  of  the  world,  and  of  course  what  she  does,  however 
absurd  or  disgusting,  is  necessarily  in  accordance  with  good 
taste.  But  America  being,  even  according  to  her  own  con 
fession,  but  the  modest  imitator  of  England,  must  expect  to 
be  laughed  at  by  her  distinguished  model. 

It  has  often  afforded  me  great  amusement  in  the  cafes  of 
Paris,  to  watch  the  movements  of  a  newly-arrived  John 
Bull,  eager  to  assume  the  deliberate  air  of  a  man  of  travel 
and  observation.  His  extraordinary  attempts  at  the  names 
of  the  French  dishes — his  frequent  calls  for  the  gascon,  as 
he  usually  pronounces  the  name — his  multitudinous  wants, 
and  his  sputtering  rage  when  everything  was  not  done  to  his 
satisfaction,  were  all  ludicrous  in  the  extreme.  But  it  was 
the  climax  of  the  funny  to  see  him,  at  the  end  of  his  ample 
repast,  seize  his  little  cup  of  water,  and  gaze  profoundly 
into  it.  With  a  sigh  of  secret  satisfaction,  he  would  swig 
three-fourths  of  its  contents  at  a  gulp,  roll  it  in  his  mouth 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  131 

with  frightful  contortions  of  feature,  and  a  gurgling  sound 
of  semi-suffocation,  and  then  squirt  into  his  basin,  or  rather 
spittoon,  a  cascade  worthy  of  a  sea-sick  toper.  It  was  very 
— very  rich.  The  simply  disgusting  became,  in  his  hands, 
laughable.  One  forgot  his  loathing  in  his  merriment.  But 
this  same  cockney  coxcomb,  who  seemed  to  pride  himself  on 
the  size  and  force  of  the  stream  he  could  throw  at  the  din 
ner-table,  would  have  instant  recourse  to  his  vial  of  aroma 
tic  vinegar  upon  the  most  unobtrusive  getting-rid  of  super 
fluous  saliva,  by  an  American  in  the  street.  As  I  said  be 
fore,  the  former  habit  is  French,  and  so  conducive  to  clean 
liness.  To  rinse  one's  mouth  before  leaving  table  is  cer 
tainly  not  a  comely  habit  to  look  upon,  though  it  is,  without 
doubt,  very  French,  and  very  clean.  Using  the  same  argu 
ment,  it  might  be  declared  that  the  vulgar  habit  of  a  man's 
blowing  his  nose  with  his  fingers  was,  in  the  abstract,  much 
cleaner  than  using  a  handkerchief,  and  carefully  stowing  it 
away  in  his  pocket.  But  I  scarcely  think  that  even  the 
most  adventurous  of  Frenchmen  would,  on  this  account, 
advocate  the  introduction  of  the  custom  into  refined  circles. 
In  theory  it  may  be  clean  to  do,  but  it  is  decidedly  not 
pleasant  to  see.  And  so  I  think  of  the  Parisian  habit  of 
rinsing  the  mouth  at  table — British  advocacy  to  the  con 
trary,  notwithstanding. 

Nature  has  wisely  placed  the  nose  as  a  sentinel  to  the 
stomach,  and  whatever  is  offensive  to  one,  we  may  be  sure  is 
not  proper  for  the  other.  And  yet  the  elegant  gourmands  of 
England  contend  that  venison  is  not  fit  to  be  served  till  the 
very  waiter  must  hold  his  nose  at  it,  as  he  places  it  on  the 
table.  The  daintiest  epicures  will  greedily  devour  pheasants 
and  partridges  which  have  picked  themselves,  merely  because 
the  flesh  has  become  too  "  short "  to  retain  the  feathers. 
Yet  these  bold  Britons,  who  have  from  their  infancy,  in  vio 
lation  of  nature's  laws,  loaded  their  stomachs  with  such  loath- 


132  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

some  crammings,  profess  that  their  insatiate  maws  arc  en 
dued  with  sensibilities  so  delicate,  that  they  are  painfully  af 
fected  by  the  sight  of  a  little  tobacco-juice.  Could  aiFectation 
be  more  absurd,  or  contradiction  more  ridiculous  ?  I  would 
as  soon  think  of  a  brick's  being  dissolved  by  the  sight  of  mor 
tar,  as  an  Englishman's  stomach  being  turned  by  the  sight 
of  any  thing.  It's  much  the  firmest  part  about  him. 

But  in  conclusion  of  this  not  very  interesting  subject, 
if  we  in  America  must  spit,  let  us  spit  out  courageously  be 
fore  the  whole  world.  There  is  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of 
in  it,  and  even  if  there  was,  our  attemping  to  spit  by  stealth 
would  only  invite  new  attacks  from  our  enemy,  by  this  im 
plied  confession  of  a  fault. 

Many  things  are  judged  of  in  this  world,  by  the  manner 
in  which  people  do  them.  Nothing  can  be  more  opposed  to 
the  loosest  notions  of  morality,  and  chivalry,  than  stealing. 
Yet  what  Christian,  or  modern  hero  professes  to  despise 
the  Spartans,  as  a  nation  of  thieves  ?  And  why  do  they  not 
do  so,  as  they  ought,  in  accordance  with  their  moral  profes 
sions  ?  Simply  because  the  Spartans  gloried  in  theft.  A 
scared  dog  with  a  tin  pan  to  his  tail  will  always  have  the 
whole  pack  of  village  curs  at  his  heels,  but  if  he  turns  upon 
them  his  assailants  pause  ere  they  attack  him. 

So  I  beseech  again,  let  us  spit  fearlessly  and  profusely. 
Spitting,  on  ordinary  occasions,  may  be  regarded  by  a  por 
tion  of  my  countrymen  as  a  luxury :  it  becomes  a  duty  in 
the  presence  of  an  Englishman.  Let  us  spit  around  him — 
above  him — and  beneath  him — every  where  but  on  him.  that 
he  may  become  perfectly  familiar  with  the  habit  in  all  of  its 
phases.  I  would  make  it  the  first  law  of  hospitality  to  an 
Englishman,  that  every  tobacco  twist  should  be  called  into 
requisition,  and  every  spittoon  be  flooded,  in  order  thoroughly 
to  initiate  him  into  the  mysteries  of  "chewing."  Leave  no 
room  for  his  imagination  to  work.  Only  ,^pit  him  once  into 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  133 

a  state  of  friendly  familiarity  with  the  barbarous  custom,  and 
he  will  be  but  too  happy  to  maintain  a  profound  silence  on 
the  subject  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  I  would  give  each  hurry 
ing  tourist,  who  lands  on  our  shores,  inflated  by  preconceived 
opinions  for  an  abusive  book  on  America,  his  fill  of  spitting 
as  an  infallible  remedy  for  his  windiness.  Let  the  dose  be 
copious,  and  the  cure  will  be  complete.  If  no  more  desirable 
end  be  attained  by  the  prescription,  we  shall  at  least  be 
allowed  to  spit  in  peace. 

After  the  notable  habit  of  salivarizing,  there  is  nothing 
about  Americans  so  constantly  harped  upon  by  Englishmen, 
as  their  precipitate  rush  to  the  table,  and  even  greater  hurry 
to  leave  it.  The  general  stampede  for  the  table,  which  I 
acknowledge  sometimes  occurs  on  steamboats,  and  in  interior 
towns,  but  never  in  our  cities,  I  most  emphatically  disap 
prove  of.  Such  haste  is  too  indicative  of  the  carnivorous 
propensities  of  the  English  themselves,  to  be  at  all  in  ac 
cordance  with  my  rigidly  American  notions.  But  what 
reasonable  objection  could  be  urged  to  a  gentleman's  quietly 
leaving  a  public  dinner-table,  when  his  wants  were  satisfied, 
it  would,  without  English  assistance,  be  somewhat  difficult 
to  divine.  An  Englishman  objects  to  the  haste  with  which 
we  dispatch  so  important  an  affair  as  dinner.  Being  him 
self  endowed  with  the  voracity  of  a  shark,  the  gizzard  of  an 
ostrich,  and  "  the  dilating  powers  of  the  anaconda,"  he 
imagines  that  every  one  must,  from  necessity,  gorge  his  food 
as  he  does  himself.  To  any  man  who  has  ever  taken  the  di 
mensions  of  an  Englishman's  appetite,  it  can  no  longer  be 
a  matter  of  surprise,  that  with  him  feeding  becomes  a  very 
serious  sort  of  undertaking.  It  is  one  of  tho?e  things  which, 
like  the  "cooling"  of  a  steamer,  necessarily  requires  time, 
and  which,  not  even  the  hurry  of  coal-heavers  could  decidedly 
facilitate. 

The  process  of  "bolting  food,"  so  minutely  elaborated  on 


134  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

by  Englishmen,  I  have  never  seen  in  any  portion  of  our 
country,  though  these  six-week  travellers,  more  fortunate 
than  myself,  appear  to  have  met  with  it  everywhere.  But 
in  England  I  have  witnessed  this  bolting  operation,  which 
I  immediately  recognized  as  the  original  of  pictures  of 
imaginary  scenes  in  America  drawn  by  Englishmen.  And 
yet  I  never  knew  an  Anglo-Dane-Saxon-Norman  to  make  a 
hasty  meal.  Shovel  his  food  as  he  may,  it  is  nevertheless  a 
slow  operation — so  is  levelling  a  mountain. 

Although  the  dinner-table  is  the  scene  of  an  English 
man's  most  extraordinary  exploits,  he  has  the  bad  taste  not 
to  be  proud  of  them,  though  Heliogabalus  himself  might 
justly  have  been  so.  Although  a  glutton  by  nature,  yet 
strangely  enough  he  is  sensitive  on  the  subject  of  his  glut 
tony.  He  cannot  endure  that  the  moderate  appetites  and 
simple  wants  of  another  nation  should  render  his  own  greedi 
ness  so  conspicuous.  He  has  attempted  therefore  to  force 
them  into  at  least  an  affectation  of  his  peculiar  habits,  by 
railing  at  the  haste  with  which  they  take  their  meals. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  time  allowed  for  dinner  in  our 
principal  towns  and  cities,  ought  to  be  ample  for  the  satis 
faction  even  of  a  British  appetite.  But  it  appears  that  this 
is  not  so.  Every  book  of  travels  which  is  given  to  the  world 
after  twenty  days'  close  study  and  minute  observation  of  a 
country,  nearly  equal  in  extent  to  the  whole  of  Europe, 
teems  with  piteous  complaints  of  the  hurry  witli  which  the 
author  was  compelled  to  take  his  dinner.  lie  apparently 
demands  even  a  longer  time  for  his  meals  in  America  than  is 
required  in  his  own  country — this  may  be  accounted  for  by 
the  fact,  that  in  England  a  man  pays  for  each  article  he 
orders — which  is  measured  out  with  mathematical  exact 
itude.  An  Englishman's  economy,  under  such  circumstances, 
neutralizes  his  voracity.  But  in  America,  where  a  sumptuous 
display  of  viands  is  made,  to  which  lie  has  never  been  accus- 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  135 

tomed,  and  where  he  enjoys  the  privilege  of  stuffing  himself 
to  his  utmost  capacity,  without  an  increase  of  expense,  he 
very  naturally  feels  inclined  to  improve  his  opportunities, 
and  lingers  at  the  table  accordingly.  His  expressions  of 
grief  are  s:  earnest,  and  his  lamentations  so  touching,  that 
from  my  heart  I  pity  him.  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation 
of  suggesting,  that  an  English  dining-room  be  furnished  in 
our  principal  hotels,  where  hungry  Islanders  may  sociably 
spend  the  day  in  a  manner  most  in  accordance  with  their 
feelings. 

Americans  really  eat  with  no  more  haste  than  English 
men, — the  difference  in  the  time,  demanded  for  dinner  by 
the  two  nations,  arising  altogether  from  the  difference  in  the 
quantity  of  food  consumed.  As  an  Englishman  eats  three 
times  as  much  as  an  American,  it  is  evident  from  calculation, 
that  even  with  the  assistance  of  the  English  habit  of  "  bolt 
ing,"  he  must  remain  a  considerably  longer  time  at  table. 
The  travelled  fox  lost  his  tail,  and  earnestly  advised  his 
fellow-foxes  to  follow  the  newly  imported  fashion.  An  Eng 
lishman  dwells  on  his  dinner,  like  an  enraptured  lover  on  a 
kiss,  and  wishes  to  force  all  the  world  into  acknowledging 
the  same  ecstatic  bliss  in  its  enjoyment.  Because  he  him 
self  is  transported  by  the  excitement  of  eating,  he  would 
have  every  body  else  experience  the  same  table  enthusiasm. 

A  common  charge  against  Americans  is  their  "  excessive 
love  of  money,"  and  "inordinate  greediness  for  gain."  We 
sometimes  "  talk  of  dollars"  in  America,  and  are  actually 
guilty  of  exerting  ourselves  to  make  them.  What  presump 
tion  in  Republicans !  Trying  to  attain  that  which  consti 
tutes  the  power  of  the  English  aristocracy.  If  making 
money  had  been  a  crime,  the  present  nobility  of  England 
would  have  all  been  residents  of  New  South  Wales — as  their 
ancestors  would  undoubtedly  have  been  transported  thither. 
What  was  it  that  made  most  of  their  progenitors  worthy  of 


136  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

being  ennobled  ?  What  is  it  that  sustains  the  importance 
of  the  present  nobility — but  money  ?  And  how  was  this 
vital  spark  of  aristocracy  originally  acquired  unless  it  was 
worked  for?  A  few  noble  families,  'tis  true,  owe  their  wealth 
to  what  in  England  is  considered  the  rare  good  fortune  of 
having  the  illegimate  sons  of  a  king  for  ancestors.  A  still 
smaller  number  are  indebted  for  their  importance  to  the 
plunder  of  Saxon  churls  by  Norman  invaders.  But  the 
large  majority  of  the  founders  of  the  present  titled  families 
of  Great  Britain  must  have  toiled  most  manfully  for  the  for 
tunes,  which  formed  the  basis  of  their  earliest  distinction. 
The  430  noble  personages  of  England  give  tone  to  public 
sentiment, — they  think — they  speak — they  act  for  the  nation. 
The  great  mass  of  the  people  have  no  opinion — no  voice  of 
their  own.  And  when  the  nobility  inveigh  against  those 
attempting  to  make  fortunes,  the  entire  people  echo  the  sage 
sentiment — but  none  so  noisily  as  the  merchants  nnd  trades 
men,  who  have  already,  by  dint  of  struggling  and  hoarding, 
become  rich  enough  to  retire  from  business,  and  entertain 
vague  hopes  of  being  ennobled  some  day  themselves. 

These  430  drones,  hiving  on  the  wealth  which  the  labor 
of  others  has  amassed,  never  omit  an  opportunity  of  sneering 
at  those  engaged  in  the  acquisition  of  riches.  Enjoying  in 
comes  themselves  of  from  fifty  thousand  to  three  millions  of 
dollars,  they  can  well  afford  to  condemn  money-making  as 
unworthy.  And  all  the  rich  citizens  and  popular  journals 
cry  ';  hear  !  hear  !"  as  if  an  oracle  had  spoken.  No  pursuit 
is  dishonorable,  unless  the  object  pursued  be  base.  And  if 
money-making,  in  some  honorable  occupation,  be  so  shame 
fully  unworthy,  then  the  nobility  must  be  the  quintessence 
of  baseness,  for  money,  as  I  said  before,  gives  vital  power  to 
their  order.  What  would  they  be  without  it?  What  is  a 
title,  without  a  fortune  to  maintain  it?  A  mockery,  which 
the  very  mob  hoots  at.  But  notwithstanding  their  osteuta- 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  137 

tious  professions  of  contempt  for  lucre,  the  aristocracy  know 
the  real  value  of  money,  and  are  jealous  that  people  beyond 
their  own  circle  should  possess  it.  Hence  their  zeal  to  con 
vince  the  world,  that  any  active  pursuit,  in  which  money  is 
to  be  made,  is  dishonorable.  To  rival  them  in  fortune  is  to 
share  their  power, — to  surpass  them,  would  be  to  destroy 
their  present  monopoly  of  influence.  Is  it  surprising  then, 
that  they  should  constantly  cause  crusades  to  be  preached 
against  money-making  ?  What  could  be  more  absurd,  than 
this  pretended  indifference  to  money,  and  contempt  for  its 
seekers  ? 

When  money-making  is  confined  to  the  sordid  passion 
of  accumulation,  when  the  wretched  miser  pinches  himself 
and  grinds  every  body  else  to  enjoy  the  mean  gratification 
of  gloating  over  heaps  of  shining  metal,  I  cordially  assent 
to  the  strictures,  which  in  all  countries  and  every  age  have 
been  passed  on  avarice.  But  so  far  from  this  most  degraded 
of  passions  being  common  in  America,  our  citizens  are  too  often 
destitute  of  a  becoming  sense  of  economy,  and  run  into  the 
other  extreme  of  extravagance.  It  is  true  that  almost  every 
one  in  America  is  engaged  in  some  active  pursuit.  In  a 
country  yet  young,  and  almost  entirely  deficient  in  those 
convenient  haunts  for  idlers,  the  parks,  the  clubs,  the  drives, 
the  promenades,  and  all  the  possible  varieties  of  amusement, 
even  those  who  could  live  without  it,  seek  occupation  as  a 
source  of  enjoyment.  We  cannot  escape  the  original  curse 
that  man  should  earn  his  bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow ; 
exertion  of  some  sort  is  essential  to  existence,  and  no  man 
can  be  contented,  unless  he  is,  or  imagines  himself  to  be,  em 
ployed.  I  cannot  conceive  a  more  dreary  sort  of  existence 
than  a  mere  idler  in  most  portions  of  America,  deprived  as 
he  is  of  the  elegant  means  of  killing  time,  which  are  provided 
for  the  various  aristocracies  of  Europe.  Yet  many,  with 
mistaken  notions  of  aristocracy,  submit  to  the  penance  of 


138  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

idleness,  in  order  to  appear  genteel.  If  gentility  can  pre 
sent  no  higher  claims  to  consideration,  I  fear  it  will  never 
flourish  in  America.  What  could  be  more  ridiculous  than 
a  man's  boring  himself  by  doing  nothing,  merely  to  ape  the 
aristocratic  indolence  of  the  nobility  of  Europe,  where  the 
idlest  of  men  can  be  the  most  busily  engaged  in  the  count 
less  pleasures  which  surround  him?  But  that  Americans  are 
generally  so  wedded  to  business  as  to  have  no  time  for  the 
ordinary  enjoyments  of  life,  is  glaringly  untrue.  We  con 
stantly  find  them  indulging  in  those  more  refined  pleasures 
which  are  only  enjoyed  by  the  strictly  aristocratic  circles  of 
England.  Money  is  only  valuable  to  them  on  account  of 
the  comforts  and  the  enjoyments  it  procures.  Large  for 
tunes  by  inheritance  are  comparatively  unknown  in  America, 
the  fathers  of  our  Republic  having  overthrown  the  aristo 
cratic  law  of  primogeniture  as  inimical  to  our  institutions. 
Almost  every  man  with  us  must  start  in  life  with  the  manly 
consciousness  that  he  has  his  own  fortune  to  make.  And 
any  young  gentleman  who  is  so  verdant  as  to  doubt  that 
"  ready  money  "  is  "  Aladdin's  lamp."  should  be  sent  to  Eng 
land  to  complete  his  education.  When  he  witnesses  the 
miracles  it  works  there,  his  skepticism  will  be  removed  I 
am  very  sure.  One  distinguished  bard  has  declared  that 
"  love  rules  the  camp,  the  court,  the  grove."  "But  Byron, 
more  familiar  with  the  domestic  economy  of  Great  Britain, 
says,  that  "  cash  rules  love,  the  ruler,"  and  therefore  rules 
the  world. 

The  young  men  of  most  wealthy  families  in  America  are 
reared  with  tastes  that  their  inheritances  cannot  support. 
But  those  yonng  Americans  who  are  prepared  by  education 
and  early  association  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  luxurious  in 
dulge  nces  which  fortune  only  can  procure,  not  being  so  lucky 
as  the  youthful  nobles  of  England,  who  have  their  fortunes 
ready  made  to  their  hands,  must  strike  boldly  out,  and  labor 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  139 

* 

for  the  means  of  indulging  the  elegant  tastes  of  educated  re 
finement.  And  the  snob  who  is  so  snobbish  as  to  sneer  at 
a  young  gentleman  so  engaged,  deserves  to  be  crowned  chief 
of  the  fraternity.  But  although  young  Americans  exert 
themselves  with  laudable  energy  in  the  acquisition  of  fortune, 
yet  they  spend  it  with  a  liberality  altogether  unknown  in 
England.  I  have  closely  observed  my  countrymen  both  at 
home  and  abroad,  and  I  have  invariably  found  them  living 
with  a  profusion  far  surpassing  that  of  the  moneyed  circles 
of  Great  Britain  of  ten  times  their  income.  So  far  are  they 
from  deserving  the  oft-repeated  charge  of  sordid  meanness, 
that  their  liberality  in  proportion  to  their  resources  would 
be  condemned  in  England  as  reprehensible  extravagance. 

But  this  very  objectionable  mania  for  lucre,  of  which 
Englishmen  so  unjustly  accuse  us,  is  not  only  prevalent  in 
their  own  middle  classes,  but  is  found  in  its  most  animated 
perfection  among  the  nobility  themselves.  Those  who  have 
the  candor  to  inquire,  will  find  the  commercial  circles  of 
Great  Britain  so  inveterately  wedded  to  their  business  as  to 
be  deprived  of  all  those  enlightened  amusements  which  even 
ordinary  wealth  could  procure  them.  They  allow  their 
dreams  of  riches  to  be  interrupted  by  no  pleasing  relaxations, 
except  equally  halcyon  visions  of  dinner.  They  are  not 
satisfied  with  a  competent  independence.  They  persevere 
in  slaving  and  hoarding,  till  they  have  amassed  a  fortune  im 
mensely  greater  than  is  ever  enjoyed  by  Americans,  except 
in  extremely  isolated  cases.  Buried  in  the  dark  lanes  of 
"  the  city,"  they  are  as  integral  portions  of  their  counting- 
rooms  as  the  high  stools  or  the  iron  safe.  They  hear  no 
news  but  the  rise  and  fall  in  stocks,  and  have  no  conversa 
tion  except  on  the  past  and  probable  variations  in  the  price 
of  "  stuff."  They  read  no  books  but  the  ledger,  and  feel  no 
interest  in  any  thing  but  their  cash.  When  that  "  balances," 
they  are  as  happy  as  their  natures  are  capable  of  being. 


140  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

• 

The  interior  of  a  theatre  is  wholly  unknown  to  them,  and 
an  opera  is  something  they  have  yet  to  hear.  Their  ideas 
of  amusement  arc  concentrated  in  the  occult  science  of 
'*  book-keeping  by  double  entry."  Their  only  excitement  is 
counting  money — their  only  grief  is  its  loss.  They  go  to 
church  to  carry  their  wife's  prayer  book,  and  sum  up  long 
calculations  of  last  week's  profits.  The  disturbances  in 
France  are  only  regarded  as  active  causes  of  depression  of 
public  credit  and  the  price  of  rich  silks.  "  The  summary" 
by  the  last  steamer  from  America  possesses  no  charm  for 
them  beyond  the  probable  decline  of  cotton,  or  a  reported 
advance  in  pork.  Their  education  consists  in  writing  a  round, 
commercial  hand,  calculating  compound  interest,  and  being 
able  to  cipher  in  "  the  double  rule  of  three."  They  never 
bother  their  heads  by  conjectures  as  to  whether  the  earth  is 
square  or  oblong  ;  they  know  nothing,  and  care  less,  about 
the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  except  that  the  declin 
ing  sun  indicates  the  hour  for  going  to  dinner ;  they  have 
no  intercourse  with  their  fellow-beings  beyond  the  formali 
ties  of  a  business  transaction ;  and  were  never  known  to 
manifest  a  friendship  except  for  the  warehouse  cat ;  they  have 
no  time  to  talk,  and  never  write  except  on  business  ;  all 
hours  are  "  office  hours  "  to  them,  except  those  they  devote 
to  dinner  and  to  sleep  ;  they  know  nothing,  they  love  noth 
ing,  and  hope  for  nothing  beyond  the  four  walls  of  their 
counting-room ;  nobody  knows  them,  nobody  loves  them ; 
they  are  too  mean  to  make  friends,  and  too  silent  to  make 
acquaintances  ;  they  are  as  methodical,  as  uninteresting  as 
their  own  day-book  ;  their  only  aim  in  life  is  to  make 
money ;  their  only  exertion  is  to  avoid  spending  it :  and 
when,  in  the  decline  of  a  life  of  privations,  they  do  retire  from 
the  harassing  toils  of  business,  it  is  to  grumble  in  monosylla 
bic  spleen  at  their  superiors,  and  to  make  ostentatious  dona 
tions  to  charitable  institutions,  for  which  they  are  never 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  141 

% 

thanked ;  they  sink  into  the  grave  unloved  and  unniourned. 
leaving  a  vast  fortune  to  some  selfish  son,  who  has  all  his 
life  been  ashamed  of  his  father,  and  will  use  his  money  to 
purchase  a  position  from  which  he  may  look  down  with  scorn 
on  all  merchants  and  tradespeople.  I  am  not  surprised 
that  English  exclusives  should  sneer  at  the  commercial 
classes  of  America,  if  they  imagine  that  our  merchants  re 
semble  their  own. 

The  same  grasping  greediness  is  constantly  manifested 
by  the  nobility,  notwithstanding  their  enormous  fortunes  by 
inheritance.  There  is  no  office  they  will  not  sue  for — no  po 
sition  they  will  not  accept,  which  gives  promise  of  profit. 
The  ermined  robe  of  a  Peer,  like  the  blue  gown  in  Scot 
land,  confers  on  its  lucky  wearer  the  privileges  of  a  licensed 
beggar.  This  is  no  ordinary  advantage  in  a  country  where 
common  beggars  are  so  severely  punished.  The  sinecure 
positions  under  government,  and  the  pension  lists,  are  the 
poor-house  unions,  established  for  the  accommodation  of 
noble  mendicants.  In  their  applications  for  "  relief,"  their 
Lordships  unite  the  whining  perseverance  of  the  ordinary 
pauper,  with  the  sturdy  intrepidity  of  the  highwayman. 
The  vile  street-beggars  may  be  summarily  disposed  of.  and 
the  white-waistcoated  citizen  never  hesitates  to  relieve  himself 
and  the  public  from  their  importunities,  by  depositing  in 
formation  at  the  police  office.  But  unfortunately  there  is 
no  aristocratic  house  of  correction,  to  which  importunate 
nobles  may  be  consigned,  when  they  become  troublesome  in 
their  applications.  Partly  by  urgent  solicitation,  and  partly 
by  pertinacious  bullying,  they  generally  obtain  what  they 
desire  from  government,  however  unreasonable  and  incon 
venient  their  demands  may  be.  Search  through  the  profit 
able  sinecures  and  the  oppressive  pensions,  and  you  will  find 
them  all  monopolized  by  their  noble  Lordships  themselves. 
Examine  the  army  and  navy  lists,  and  it  will  be  seen 


142  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

that  the  commissions  in  the  Royal  regiments,  with  high  pay 
and  nothing  to  do,  and  the  prominent  commands  in  the  naval 
service,  which  justly  belong  to  older  and  abler  sailors,  have 
all  been  appropriated  to  the  support  of  their  Lordships'  sons. 
They  deem  it  a  stain  on  a  noble  escutcheon  to  engage  in 
any  active  occupation,  however  respectable,  but  they  seem  to 
be  conveniently  destitute  of  scruples  about  becoming  pen 
sioners  upon  the  strained  charities  of  an  over-taxed  people. 

But  in  searching  for  examples  of  the  voracity  displayed 
by  rich  Britons  in  keeping  all  they  have,  and  clutching  at 
more,  we  need  not  descend  lower  than  the  palace.  The 
proud  court  of  England's  Queen  affords  the  most  startling 
instances  of  the  national  vice.  That  kingdom  is  deemed 
happiest,  whose  monarch  adopts  the  sentiments,  and  prac 
tises  the  customs  of  the  people.  England  should  be  very 
happy  in  her  Queen.  In  her  evident  appreciation  of  money, 
Her  Majesty  is  peculiarly  successful  in  adapting  her  own 
taste  to  that  of  her  subjects. 

The  English  nation,  in  order  to  support  the  dignity  of 
their  royal  ruler,  annually  appropriate  the  very  inconsider 
able  sum  of  $1.925.000.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  people 
are  amused  by  the  regal  rattle,  since  they  are  compelled  to 
pay  so  dearly  for  it.  After  meeting  every  possible-  expense 
she  might  chance  to  be  subjected  to  in  her  domestic  arrange 
ments  and  her  public  duties,  they  contribute  $300.000  as 
pin  money  to  the  Queen.  In  addition  to  this  snug  little 
sum.  she  enjoys  $70.000  from  the  Duchy  of  Lancaster,  and 
derives  $00.000  more  from  pickings,  in  various  quarters. 
During  the  minority  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  she  possesses 
entire  control  over  his  Duchy  of  Cornwall,  and  the  right 
to  use  the  $190,000  yielded  by  the  principality,  after  the 
deduction  of  salaries,  expenses,  and  allowances  to  its  nu 
merous  officers.  Every  personal  want  is  considered  and 
every  public  emergency  provided  for,  when  the  ministers  an- 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  143 

nually  present  the  budget  to  Parliament.  Every  possible 
public  and  private  expenditure  of  the  Queen  is  paid  from 
the  vast  sum  of  $1,625,000  appropriated  by  parliament  for 
that  purpose.  Yet,  in  addition,  she  has  her  pin-money, 
$300,000,  which  is  granted  by  parliament ;  she  has  the  $260,- 
000  produced  by  the  two  Duchies,  and  the  $60.000  derived 
from  other  sources,  making  in  all  the  vast  sum  of  $620,000, 
which  the  Queen  receives  annually  as  her  private  pocket- 
money,  besides  the  $1,625,000  devoted  to  her  support. 
When  it  is  remembered  that  every  article  of  apparel  she 
wears  and  every  meal  she  takes — that  all  the  equipages  and 
horses  she  owns — that  her  servants,  her  furniture,  her  trav 
elling  expenses,  and  her  palaces,  are  all  provided  for  from  the 
immense  sums  allotted  by  the  government  to  the  support  of 
the  different  departments  of  her  household,  the  question 
naturally  arises,  what  can  she  do  with  the  $620,000  which 
she  receives  independent  of  all  expenses  ?  That  this  sum  is 
exhausted,  'tis  our  duty  to  believe,  since  we  shall  see  that 
the  Queen  appropriated  a  small  public  fund,  which  should 
have  been  sacred  even  in  the  eyes  of  Royalty,  to  charities 
to  her  own  personal  favorites.  Though  her  profusion  should 
equal  Caligula's,  and  she  should  amuse  herself  by  seeing  the 
mob  scramble  for  her  largesses,  it  would  yet  seem  strange 
that  in  one  year  she  could  squander  so  immense  a  sum.  in 
addition  to  the  million  and  a  half  of  dollars  appropriated 
to  her  support.  But  the  question  is  of  money.  Remember 
that  lucre  is  the  subject  of  surmise,  and  the  mystery  is  solved. 
The  Queen  would  be  unjust  to  herself  and  insulting  to  her 
people,  should  she  display  a  careless  indifference  :to  what 
they  so  highly  prize.  She  would  prove  recreant  to  the  duties 
of  her  position,  did  she  not  carefully  hoard  what  every  Eng 
lishman  guards  more  tenderly  than  England's  honor  or  his 
own. 

This  wonderful  people  of  England,  after  having  so  mag- 


144  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

nificently  provided  for  their  Queen,  generously  set  aside  the 
enormous  sum  of  $6.000,  to  be  distributed  among  such  in 
dividuals  who  have  by  their  talents  or  scientific  attainments 
deserved  kithc  gratitude  of  the  country."  It  is  an  eloquent 
commentary  on  the  amount  of  intellect  existing  at  present 
in  England,  that  all  the  men  of  genius  and  learning  in  the 
kingdom  are  estimated  by  parliament  at  one-fiftieth  part  of 
the  importance  of  Her  Majesty's  pin-money.  If  the  tal 
ents  of  the  nation  must  be  rated  and  are  rated  so  low,  is  it 
surprising  that  the  standard  of  intellect  should  sink  ?  Ought 
it  to  seem  strange  that  the  present  race  of  Englishmen  are 
so  much  more  expert  with  their  knives  and  forks  than  their 
pens  ? — that  their  tongues  are  so  much  more  happily  em 
ployed  in  mastication  than  in  eloquence  ? 

Even  we  Republicans  are  accustomed  to  associate  the 
highest  degree  of  magnificence  and  liberality  with  the  title 
of  King.  We  are  familiar  from  our  infancy  with  "  royal 
munificence  "  and  "princely  generosity"  as  figures  of  speech 
conveying  ideas  of  superlative  profusion.  Queen  Victoria 
seems  by  no  means  insensible  of  the  ordinary  attributes  of 
royalty,  but  entertains  somewhat  original  notions  of  the 
manner  of  displaying  them.  She  is  very  charitable,  but  is 
rather  peculiar  in  being  so  at  .other  people's  expense.  She 
appears  to  think,  that  as  her  ministers  must  bear  the  odium 
attached  to  the  unpopular  acts  of  the  crown,  the  people  ought 
to  sustain  the  expense  of  such  deeds  as  might  win  for  it 
popularity.  She  being  the  acknowledged  head  of  the  Brit 
ish  nation,  her  munificence  must  necessarily  reflect  honor  on 
them,  and  they  should  be  but  too  happy  to  pay  for  it. 

Although  I  have  shown  that  the  Queen  is  in  the  yearly 
receipt  of  $1.625.000,  and  has  a  privy  purse  of  8620.000 
per  annum,  yet  when  she  desired  to  manifest  her  substantial 
gratitude  to  her  seven  private  teachers,  she  boldly  quartered 
them  on  the  public,  and  granted  them  all  pensions  of  $500 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMKKICA.  145 

apiece,  out  of  the  pitiful  fund  appropriated  for  needy  au 
thors,  "  who  had  deserved  the  gratitude  of  the  country." 
The  mere  fact  of  these  persons  having  been  the  instructors 
of  the  Queen  would,  in  a  country  like  England,  have  given 
them  all  a  far  greater  number  of  the  wealthiest  scholars 
than  they  could  possibly  have  attended  to,  and  must  have 
placed  them,  not  only  far  above  want,  but  in  affluent  circum 
stances.  But  even  supposing  those  worthy  people  to  have 
been  in  need  of  the  royal  bounty,  would  it  not  have  been  in 
better  taste,  to  say  nothing  of  regal  munificence,  to  have 
supplied  their  wants  from  her  own  privy  purse,  rather  than 
misapply  a  large  portion  of  a  fund,  which  the  people  had 
appropriated  for  the  benefit  of  such  of  themselves  who  had 
rendered  important  services  to  their  country  ?  • 

It  is  true,  that  this  squad  of  fortunate  foreigners  had 
imparted  to  the  Queen  some  knowledge  of  the  pretty  little 
accomplishments  of  their  respective  countries.  But  by  what 
ingenious  interpretation  of  the  act  they  could  be  numbered 
among  those  "  who  had  deserved  the  gratitude  of  the  coun 
try,"  it  would  be  somewhat  difficult  to  determine.  If  en 
abling  Queen  Victoria  to  strum  by  rote  one  of  Strauss's 
waltzes  on  the  piano,  or  to  hop  through  a  polka,  with  ease  to 
herself  and  satisfaction  to  her  partner,  could  be  properly 
placed  in  the  category  of  eminent  services  to  the  state,  these 
whiskerandoes  had  deserved  the  gratitude  of  the  country ; 
and  by  a  forced  interpretation  of  the  act,  might  have  been 
pensioned  from  this  fund.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  these 
elegant  pastimes  being  much  more  amusing  to  the  Queen 
than  useful  to  her  subjects,  she  should  have  rewarded  her 
seven  faithful  teachers  from  her  own  ample  privy  purse  of 
$620.000,  and  not  arbitrarily  mounted  them  on  the  shoul 
ders  of  the  already  overloaded  public.  If  these  pensions 
were  intended,  as  mementoes  of  affectionate  remembrance  to 
her  different  instructors,  would  they  not  have  been  much  more 


146  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

acceptable  if  generously  bestowed  by  herself,  instead  of 
being  forced  from  the  public  ?  During  this  year  $3.500 
of  the  magnificent  literary  fund  were  consumed  by  fiddlers 
and  singers,  whilst  tho  dazzling  sum  of  $1.500  was  left 
to  be  divided  among  all  the  genius  and  learning  of  Great 
Britain.  The  grant  of  these  pensions  was  made  23d  July. 
1840,  Viscount  Melbourne  being  Premier. 

As  an  evidence  of  the  rare  discrimination  displayed  by 
Her  Majesty,  in  the  appreciation  of  merit,  I  beg  leave  to  re 
fer  to  the  pension  of  $500  to  Peter  Warren  Dease,  Esq., 
•{  chief  factor  in  the  service  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company ; 
in  consideration  of  the  personal  danger  and  fatigue  under 
gone  by  him,  in  geographical  discoveries  on  the  Northern 
coast  of  America."  ';  Granted  March  17th,  1841.  Viscount 
Melbourne,  Premier."  Mr.  Dease,  for  his  useful  geographi 
cal  discoveries,  is  honored  by  being  raised  to  the  level  of 
Her  Majesty's  dancing-master.  Such  extraordinary  acute- 
ness  in  determining  the  degrees  in  which  persons  had 
deserved  the  gratitude  of  their  country,  justly  entitles 
Queen  Victoria  to  the  thankful  acknowledgments  of  her 
subjects,  and  should  reconcile  them  to  the  burthen  of  the 
seven  private  teachers. 

During  another  year  Her  Gracious  Majesty  made  two 
grants,  within  five  months  of  each  other,  from  this  identical 
literary  fund,  of  $2,500  each,  to  Mademoiselle  Augusta  Em 
ma  D'Este,  the  illegitimate  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Sussex. 
"  in  consideration  of  her  just  claims  on  the  Royal  benefi 
cence."  His  Royal  Highness  of  Sussex  married  Lady  Au 
gusta  Murray,  the  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Dunmore,  at 
Rome,  and  afterwards  in  London,  in  1793.  The  issue  of 
this  union  were  a  son  and  Daughter;  but  the  marriage  was 
dissolved  as  contrary  to  the  Royal  Marriage  Act,  in  1794  ; 
thus  unfortunately  for  them  bastardizing  both  of  their  chil 
dren  This  was  tho  misfortune,  not  the  fault  of  Mademoi- 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  147 

selle.  And  every  voice  must  have  approved  the  munificence 
of  the  sovereign,  had  she  granted  a  pension  to  her  unfortunate 
cousin  from  her  enormous  privy  purse.  But  Her  Gracious 
Majesty  resolved  to  be  generous  and  unjust,  to  be  charitable 
and  prudent,  and  boldly  appropriated  to  her  own  private  use,  in 
a  pension  to  Mademoiselle  D'Este,  $£.000  of  the  $6.000  intend 
ed  for  poor  authors.  The  reputation  for  charity,  acquired  at 
the  expense  of  justice  and  honor,  would  scarcely  add  to  the 
list  of  the  Queen's  reputed  virtues.  Such  profusion  could  not 
readily  be  mistaken  for  liberality.  Upon  such  terms,  any  one 
could  afford  to  appear  generous  who  was  unscrupulous 
enough  to  appropriate  what  did  not  belong  to  him.  as  the 
means  of  making  the  display. 

This  daring  proceeding  was  not  only  a  violation  of  the 
rights  of  the  people,  whom  she  professed  to  govern  according 
to  a  free  constitution,  but  it  was  in  open  opposition  to  the 
laws,  which  it  was  her  sworn  duty  to  see  executed.  For 
Mademoiselle  D'Este  could  not  advance  even  the  imaginary 
claims  of  the  Queen's  teachers  to  the  gratitude  of  the  coun 
try.  What  had  she  done,  that  this  sacred  fund  should  be 
squandered  in  her  behalf?  No  one  can  hereafter  doubt  the 
properest  possible  appreciation  of  the  value  of  money  in 
Her  Majesty,  when  she  would  so  fearlessly  disregard  public 
opinion,  in  order  to  preserve  intact  her  own  darling  privy 
purse.  After  such  indubitable  evidence  of  the  Queen's 
ability  to  take  care  of  her  own  funds,  it  seems  somewhat  ex 
travagant  to  pay  Col.  Phipps  $10.000  to  take  care  of  them 
for  her.  $10,000  to  "the  keeper  of  Her  Majesty's  privy 
purse  !  "  What  a  commentary  in  the  very  name  of  the  of 
fice  upon  the  abuses  under  the  English  government !  The 
first  pension  was  granted  to  Mademoiselle  D'Este  5th 
March,  1845,  the  second,  28th  July,  1845,  Sir  Robert  Peel 
being  Premier.  The  fact  of  its  being  notorious,  that  she 
was  then  engaged  to  be  married  to  Sir  Thomas  Wilde,  who 


148  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

was  annually  in  receipt  of  $40,000  as  Lord  Chief  Justice  of 
the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  in  addition  to  his  enormous 
private  fortune,  accumulated  in  his  profession,  made  the 
outrage  of  these  pensions  the  more  glaring.  And.  although 
she  was  married  within  six  weeks  after  the  last  grant,  no  in 
timation  of  a  desire  to  return  the  $5.000  a  year  to  the  much 
abused  fund  has  ever  been  made,  notwithstanding  the  im 
mense  revenues  of  her  husband. 

A  pension  of  $2.000  to  the  Baroness  Lehzen  was  granted 
24th  Sept.,  1842,  Sir  Robert  Peel,  Premier.  The  Baroness, 
for  a  long  period,  during  the  minority  of  Her  Majesty,  was 
her  private  secretary  and  confidential  attendant.  Her 
faithful  services  and  constant  devotion  to  the  Queen 
may  have  .deserved  some  lasting  mark  of  her  appreciation, 
but  to  provide  for  her  from  this  fund,  intended  for  poor 
authors,  and  the  useful  laborers  for  the  public  weal,  evinced 
a  wanton  contempt  of  law.  whose  enormity  far  surpassed  that 
of  the  other  two  instances,  given  above. 

It  was  but  natural  that  Queen  Victoria,  having  grown 
up  under  the  eye  of  Baroness  Lehzen,  should  regard  her 
with  the  sincerest  affection.  Their  associations  were  of  the 
most  intimate  character,  and  their  attachment  mutual  As 
Her  Majesty's  confidence  in  her  friend  was  unlimited,  it  was 
not  extraordinary  that  she  regarded  the  opinions  of  the 
Baroness  with  deferential  respect.  But,  although  there  is 
no  evidence  that  the  Baroness  ever  exerted  her  great  influ 
ence  for  purposes  of  political  intrigue,  yet  the  people,  always 
jealous  of  foreign  interference,  became  alarmed.  It  was 
soon  whispered  that  the  Baroness  exercised  a  sway  in  the 
Queen's  Councils,  inconsistent  with  British  interests.  The 
murmurs  swelled  into  clamor,  and  the  three  kingdoms  re 
sounded  with  discontent.  The  universal  disapprobation  was 
too  boldly  expressed,  for  the  power  even  of  the  Queen  long 
to  protect  her  favorite.  Deeply  attached  as  she  undoubtedly 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  149 

was  to  the  Baroness,  and  wilful  as  she  had  ever  been  in  tri 
fles,  she  lacked  the  moral  courage  to  resist  the  common  wish 
of  all  classes  of  the  nation.  The  obnoxious  favorite  was, 
therefore,  gently  dismissed  from  court,  and  escorted  into  a 
sort  of  honorable  exile  in  Germany.  But  at  parting,  she 
received  from  the  poor  mutilated  literary  fund  a  nice  little 
token  of  the  Queen's  regard  and  regret,  in  the  shape  of  a 
pension  of  $2,000  a  year.  A  fugitive  from  the  resentment 
of  an  indignant  people,  she  was  yet  permitted  to  bear  off,  in 
triumph,  this  substanlial  evidence  of  "  the  gratitude  of  the 
country."  The  people  might  very  cheerfully  have  given 
$2,000  a  year  during  her  lifetime,  to  get  .rid  of  her  ;  but  to 
quarter  her  on  this  fund,  so  positively  provided  for  those 
whose  talents  or  services  had  been  useful  to  the  state,  re 
quired  the  ingenuity,  as  well  as  the  power  of  a  sovereign. 
Hers  was  not  the  negative  position  of  Mademoiselle  D'Este. 
She  was  not  simply  without  claims,  but  she  was  notoriously 
odious  to  all  classes  of  the  people.  Yet.  in  the  Queen's 
anxiety  to  save  her  own  money,  she  was  rewarded  in  a  way 
which  announced  to  the  world  that  she  had  deserved  their 
warmest  gratitude  Does  it  not  seem  incredible  that  the 
Queen's  annual  income  is  $2.245.000 1  By  what  epithet 
can  impartial  historians  in  times  to  come  characterize  such 
a  transaction  ?  The  pension  to  Mademoiselle  D'Este  was  a 
contemptuous  disregard  of  her  subjects'  rights  ;  the  one  to 
Baroness  Lehzen  was  an  insulting  mockery  of  their  helpless 
ness.  Although  I  am  examining  the  conduct  of  the  Queen 
in  her  official  capacity,  I  cannot  forget  that  she  is  a  woman, 
and  gallantry  restrains  me  from  the  expression  of  feelings, 
which  such  proceedings  naturally  excite.  These  are  not 
isolated  examples  of  outrage,  which  I  have  given,  as  they 
will  find  who  will  take  the  trouble  of  examining  the  pension 
list  for  themselves,  but  are  fair  illustrations  of  the  strictly 
impartial  manner  in  which  the  rewards  of  literary  merit  are 
dispensed  by  Her  Majesty. 


150  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Prince  Albert  enjoys  a  rather  comfortable  sort  of  income 
of  $300.000  a  year.  $150,000  are  appropriated  by  Parlia 
ment  :  the  other  half  lie  receives  as  jobbing  colonel  of  regi 
ments  he  does  not  command — ranger  of  parks  he  never  en 
ters — governor  of  castles  he  never  sees — arid  fancy-farmer 
on  land  for  which  he  pays  no  rent.  Not  the  least  consider 
able  of  these  profitable  sundries  is  the  Flemish  farm,  which 
is  not  only  very  profitable  to  His  Iloyal  Highness,  but  is 
enjoyed  rent-free.  Possessing  an  income,  more  than  four 
times  as  large  as  those  of  all  the  governors  of  all  the  States 
of  our  Union  together,  and  being  besides  one  of  those  rarely 
lucky  fellows,  who  get  their  board  and  washing  for  nothing, 
it  appears  presumable  that  Prince  Albert  might  gratify 
"  his  modest  little  wants "  without  the  necessity  of  sordid 
savings.  But  such  seems  from  the  archives  of  the  country 
not  to  be  the  case.  Although  his  chief  items  of  expense  may 
be  enumerated  under  the  heads  of  bouquets  and  white  kid 
gloves  for  levees — cocked  hats  and  top-boots  for  reviews — 
and  Macassar  oil  and  Lubin's  perfumes  for  "  private  draw 
ing-rooms  ;"  yet  the  consumption  of  these  articles  must  be 
prodigious,  as  the  Prince  seems  reluctant  to  pay  the  only 
debt  which  even  the  noblest  Englishman  cannot  shirk — his 
taxes.  When  called  upon  by  the  tax-collector,  he  meanly 
skulked  behind  the  petticoats  of  his  wife,  to  avoid  the  pay 
ment  of  his  taxes  for  the  Flemish  farm.  He  declared  that 
he  never  occupied  the  farm  without  Her  Majesty,  and  that 
therefore  he  was  exempted  from  the  payment  of  taxes.  On 
this  trivial  pretext  he  was  allowed  to  escape.  It  is  difficult 
to  determine  which  is  worthier  of  contempt,  the  Prince  who 
could  stoop  to  so  mean  an  outrage,  o'r  the  nation  who  would 
submit  to  it.  An  inexorable  government  enforces  its  de 
mands  from  the  neediest  freeholder,  even  to  selling  the  pet 
pig,  or  family  cow.  A  Prince  is  exempted  from  the  pay 
ment  of  his  legal  taxes,  because  there  is  no  officer  with  the 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  151 

moral  courage  to  arraign  him.  Alas !  for  the  majesty  of 
law  in  England !  How  Justice  has  been  shorn  of  her 
glories  since  the  days  when  the  madcap  hero  of  Agincourt 
could  so  meekly  bow  to  her  decrees.  The  nation  could  not 
now  exclaim  with  Henry  IV.  :  "  Happy  is  the  King  with  a 
Judge  bold  enough  to  execute  the  laws,  and  a  son  magnani 
mous  enough  to  submit  to  them."  England  has  been  pro 
lific  in  Princes  :  she  has  produced  but  one  Sir  William  Gas- 
coignc.  The  proud  dignity  with  which  the  venerable  Chief 
Justice  resented  the  blow  received  from  the  mad  Prince 
Hal,  by  committing  him  to  prison,  gave  an  illustrious  prece 
dent  to  the  Judges  of  England.  But  the  days  are  passed 
for  such  precedents  to  be  remembered.  The  ermine,  which 
clothes  the  back,  has  enervated  the  soul  of  British  Justice — 
her  heart  will  soften  to  maudlin  weakness  towards  any  one 
who  sports  the  spotted  fur.  What  common  subject  of 
Britain  could  with  impunity  have  set  at  defiance  the  laws 
of  the  land,  and  escaped  the  payment  of  his  taxes,  upon  such 
absurd  pretences  ?  His  Royal  Highness  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  possession  of  this  farm  rent-free,  to  add  to  his  al 
ready  swollen  revenues.  Being  husband  to  the  Queen,  he 
had  the  power  to  avoid  the  expense  of  taxes,  and  he  had 
been  too  long  in  England  not  to  do  so.  He  never  occupied 
the  farm  without  the  Queen,  and  he  was  therefore  not  sub 
ject  to  be  taxed.  This  was  the  truth,  but  not  u  the  whole 
truth  ;"  for  probably  neither  one  of  them  ever  did,  or  ever 
would,  occupy  the  premises  a  night  during  their  lives. 
But  the  Prince  pocketed  the  profits  of  the  farm — and  as  a 
subject  of  the  realm  he  was  bound,  both  by  honor  and  law, 
to  pay  his  taxes.  "  The  True  British  Farmer,"  as  he  affect 
edly  styles  himself,  forgets  the  first  principle  which  actuates 
every  honest  tiller  of  the  soil.  He  has  but  a  poor  concep 
tion  of  his  assumed  character  of  a  farmer,  when  he  know 
ingly  sullies  his  honor.  But  is  such  miserable  prevarica- 


152  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

tion  as  Prince  Albert's,  worthy  of  a  man  who  should  give 
tone  to  the  -most  honorable  circles  of  Great  Britain  ?  Is  it 
becoming  in  the  first  subject  of  a  great  kingdom,  to  set  such 
an  example  of  defiance  to  the  laws,  in  order  to  escape  this 
paltry  tribute  to  a  government  which  had  shown  such  muni 
ficence  towards  him  1  And  yet  Prince  Albert  would  be 
foremost  among  his  titled  parasites,  in  railing  at  all  those 
who  were  endeavoring  by  honorable  means  to  make  a  for 
tune.  One  might  conclude  from  this  brilliant  evidence  of 
financial  tact,  that  His  lloyal  Highness  was  eminently 
qualified  for  the  lucrative  and  highly  honorable  office  of 
"  Keeper  of  Her  Majesty's  privy  purse."  lie  certainly 
displays  the  sordid  wisdom  of  saving  in  a  sufficient  degree 
to  draw  the  purse-strings  tightly  enough.  And  as  some 
body  must  receive  the  salary  of  $ 10,000,  I  am  .somewhat 
surprised,  in  remembering  the  acquisitive  propensities  of  the 
family,  that  so  fat  a  sum  should  be  allowed  to  pass  into  the 
hands  of  strangers.  The  lloyal  consort  seems  troubled  for 
a  want  of  something  to  do,  notwithstanding  his  extremely 
important  functions  at  reviews  and  levees.  The  supervision 
of  that  precious  purse  might  have  afforded  him  some  healthier 
mental  occupation,  than  growing  mammoth  gooseberries,  and 
inventing  bad  hats.  But  I  suppose  it  was  considered  un 
worthy  of  the  dignity  of  His  lloyal  Highness  to  write  the 
checks,  which  is  the  only  duty  which  the  keeper  of  the  privy 
purse  is  ever  called  on  to  perform.  The  notions  of  Eng 
lishmen  on  many  subjects  are  peculiar  ;  for  instance — re 
sorting  to  a  mean  subterfuge  in  order  to  save  a  few  paltry 
pounds  of  taxes,  was  not  deemed  unbecoming  in  the  lloyal 
Drone.  But  the  slightest  blot  of  ink,  acquired  in  so  Inisi 
?icss  an  operation  as  writing  checks,  would  have  polluted 
the  immaculate  purity  of  the  lloyal  digits — and  was  not 
therefore  to  be  thought  of.  Such  is  the  absurd  supersti 
tion  of  Aristocracy  in  England. 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  153 

After  such  developments,  where  is  the  toady  so  daringly 
unscrupulous,  as  to  express  a  doubt  of  Prince  Albert's  keen 
appreciation  of  money  ?  An  allusion  to  the  Flemish  farm 
must  silence  the  most  brawling  bigot  of  them  all.  Every 
unprejudiced  mind  must  be  convinced  that,  although  the 
Prince  speaks  the  English  language  with  an  accent,  he  is 
too  thoroughly  English  in  his  feelings,  not  to  be  endued 
with  the  national  weakness  for  lucre.  How  else  can  we  ac 
count  for  his  extraordinary  course  with  regard  to  the  farm  ? 
I  would  not  voluntarily  ascribe  to  the  Prince  an  excess  of 
wilful  depravity.  I  cannot  believe  that  he  refused  to  pay 
his  taxes,  merely  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  unparalleled  base 
ness.  Charity  bids  us  to  conclude,  that  he  did  not  love 
honor  less,  but  money  more. 

But.  after  all,  when  we  remember  the  mean  state  of  de 
pendence  in  which  Prince  Albert  is  kept  by  the  nation,  as 
husband  to  their  Queen,  his  reckless  disregard  of  his  repu 
tation  as  a  gentleman  is,  perhaps,  more  deserving  of  pity 
than  scorn.  Long-continued  subjection,  even  to  the  thral 
dom  of  a  petticoat,  will  in  time  destroy  that  proud  feeling 
of  independence,  and  chivalric  sense  of  honor,  so  essential 
to  manhood.  Without  duties  or  position — without  honor  or 
consideration,  except  what  he  borrows  from  his  wife — in 
debted  even  for  what  he  eats,  and  what  he  wears,  to  her 
bounty,  it  is  not  very  extraordinary  that  His  Royal  High 
ness  should  be  oppressed  by  a  feeling  of  his  own  insignifi 
cance.  A  man  should  confer  honor  on  his  wife,  as  the  sun 
lends  light  to  the  moon — not  borrow  it  from  her.  He  can 
not  change  positions  with  her  without  being  degraded.  He 
loses  all  the  dignity  of  his  sex,  when  he  sinks  into  the  mere 
husband  of  his  wife.  The  silken  collar  of  matrimony  must 
gall  under  such  circumstances,  and  the  necessity  which  com 
pels  any  husband  to  wear  it  "cows  within  him  the  better  part 
of  man."  He  at  once  becomes  as  contemptible  in  his  own 
7* 


154  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

eyes,  as  he  appears  despicable  to  other  people.  The  sense 
of  degradation  often  urges  men  into  excesses  they  might  not 
otherwise  commit.  The  Prince  may  feel  his  humiliation 
more  keenly  than  is  generally  supposed.  He  may  he  loss 
anxious  about  the  future  opinions  of  the  world,  when  he  re 
members  what  they  must  think  of  him  now.  He  may  be 
desperate,  from  the  consciousness  that  his  present  position 
leaves  him  no  honor  to  preserve.  A  debased  spirit  may 
safely  burrow  in  the  sordid  recesses  of  avarice. 

It  is  true  that  the  huge  pyramid  of  despotism  which 
overshadowed  Great  Britain  during  the  middle  ages,  has 
long  since  been  demolished.  But  its  ruins  arc  still  thickly 
strewn  through  her  social  condition.  And  in  nothing  can 
its  former  vastncss  be  so  distinctly  traced,  as  in  that  relic 
of  barbarism,  yclepcd  the  "  Queen's  Household."  Although 
these  household  positions  have  no  longer  attached  to  them 
the  magnificence  which  made  them  respectable,  nor  the  duties 
which  rendered  them  necessary,  yet  their  names  and  their 
salaries  are  still  preserved,  at  the  same  time,  a  mockery 
and  a  burthen  to  the  people.  But  the  sovereign  and  the 
nobility  are  solemnly  leagued  against  their  abolition.  It  is 
snobbish  in  the  monarch  to  be  tickled  by  the  names — it  is 
weak  in  the  people  to  pay  the  salaries  of  these  oppressive 
sinecures.  The  real  object  of  their  continuance  appears  to 
be,  to  put  money  in  the  purses  of  the  already  enormously 
rich  aristocracy ;  and  as,  at  the  same  time,  the  sovereign's 
ideas  of  his  own  importance  are  comfortably  inflated  by  the 
presence  of  so  many  idle  servants,  the  murmurs  of  the  people 
will  avail  little  against  such  a  combination  of  interests.  It 
is  a  condescension  unworthy  the  theory  of  nobility,  for  its 
members  to  accept  positions  which  even  in  name  arc  servile 
— but  how  shall  I  describe  the  sordid  instinct,  which  prompts 
them  to  pocket  the  pitiful  price  of  their  dishonor?  These 
salaries,  although  they  must  appear  contemptible  to  them, 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  155 

when  compared  with  their  own  overgrown  incomes,  yet, 
taken  together,  form  a  serious  oppression  to  the  people. 

The  aristocracy  contend  that  this  formidable  array  of 
titled  lackeys  is  necessary  to  sustain  the  dignity  of  the 
crown.  But  if  they  were  sincerely  solicitous  about  the 
pomp  of  royalty,  the  absurd  superstitions  of  rank  in  Eng 
land  would  enable  them,  at  the  same  time,  to  amuse  the 
monarch  by  the  presence  of  these  noble  servitors,  and  to 
relieve  the  people  from  the  expense  of  them.  For  the  im 
aginary  distinction  arising  from  these  hireling  positions,  the 
advantages  of  being  fed  and  lodged  free  of  expense  in  the 
palace,  and  of  taking  part  in  all  the  exclusive  enjoyments 
of  the  court,  would  create  among  the  highest  nobility  an 
eager  contest  for  their  enjoyment,  although  no  pay  were 
attached  to  them.  But  the  grasping  greediness  of  "  the 
order  "  forbids  so  equable  a  compromise.  Their  Lordships 
cannot  occupy  even  honorary  sinecures  without  a  remunera 
tion.  They  pocket  "  what  not  enriches  them,"  but  makes 
the  people  "  poor  indeed."  The  Marquis  of  Exeter  receives, 
as  Lord  Chamberlain,  $10,000,  and  the  Duke  of  Montrose 
$10,000  more  as  Lord  Steward.  The  Earl  of  Jersey,  as 
Master  of  the  Horse,  pockets  $12,500,  and  the  Duchess  of 
Atholl,  as  the  Mistress  of  the  Robes,  receives  $2,500. 

The  venal  eulogists  of  the  British  oligarchy  must  search 
in  vain,  through  their  bulky  annals,  for  a  single  example  of 
disinterested  service  to  their  country.  I  fear  eighteen  more 
centuries  must  elapse  before  a  noble  Englishman  will  be 
found  to  imitate  the  magnanimity  of  our  Republican  Wash 
ington,  in  declining  the  emoluments  of  his  office.  The  re 
fusal  of  money  due  him,  even  to  win  a  name  in  history, 
seems  a  sacrifice  an  Englishman  is  altogether  unequal  to. 
Indeed,  patriotism  has  become  a  profitable  branch  of  trade 
in  England,  in  which  many  dabble  on  a  small  scale,  and  a 
few  are  brilliantly  successful.  What  bubble  scheme,  or  rail- 


156  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

road  speculation  ever  proved  so  profitable  to  their  origina 
tors,  as  the  patriotism  of  Marlborough,  Nelson,  and  Wel 
lington.  The  profits  of  Law,  or  "  Railroad  King  Hudson," 
were  insignificant  in  comparison.  Besides  the  distinguished 
patriots  had  divers  and  sundry  monuments  thrown  in  for 
good  conduct.  The  royal  family  and  the  nobility  have 
always  been  eager  to  sustain  a  lofty  pre-eminence  in  the 
opinions  of  the  people.  It  is  alike  their  ambition  and  their 
interest  to  appear  the  elect  of  God's  anointed.  To  stalk 
through  life,  as  a  superior  race  of  superior  beings,  with  supe 
rior  instincts  and  propensities,  is  the  difficult  part  they  have 
assumed.  Is  it  to  be  presumed,  then,  that,  with  such  aspi 
rations,  they  would  willingly  betray  to  the  multitude  the 
earthliest  of  earthly  passions — a  love  of  lucre  ?  A  mounte 
bank  would  as  soon  expose  his  tricks,  or  an  impostor  confess 
his  impositions.  13ut  their  sordid  inclinations  have  proved 
more  powerful  than  their  solitary  ambition  to  appear  supe 
rior  to  their  fellows.  Mammon  has  shown  himself  stronger 
than  pride. 

When  we  see  the  Queen  violating  the  laws  to  protect 
her  privy  purse,  and  the  Prince  consort  stooping  to  dis 
honor  to  save  his  taxes — when  we  find  their  Lordships 
scrambling  for  rich  sinecures,  and  their  honorable  offspring 
monopolizing  all  the  most  profitable  positions  in  the  army 
and  navy — when  we  know  that  the  wealthiest  nobles  of  the 
country,  in  assuming  menial  positions,  become  indued  with 
a  menial's  weakness  for  wages,  and  take  hire  for  idly  loiter 
ing  about  the  palace,  it  is  but  reasonable  to  conclude  that 
the  English  aristocracy  arc  not  wholly  insensible  to  the 
charms  of  money. 

I  believe  that  I  have  established  the  principle  ;  for  ita 
action  I  refer  my  readers  to  the  following  extracts  from 
English  papers : 


ENGLISH    WRITERS  ON    AMERICA.  157 

THE  ARISTOCRACY  AND  CAB-DRIVERS. — At  the  Marl  borough-street 
Court,  on  Tuesday,  a  cabman  was  fined  40s.,  for  behaving  with  vio 
lence  at  the  house  of  Sir  R.  Peel.  The  defendant  wanted  2s.  4d.  as  his 
fare  for  driving  Sir  Robert  from  the  Brighton  Railway  to  Pall-mall 
(which  must  be  three  miles),  while  Sir  Robert  would  only  give  him  2.<». 
The  latter  was  said  to  be  the  legal  fare. — At  the  same  court,  on  Wed 
nesday,  Earl  Fitzhardinge  summoned  T.  Jones,  driver  and  proprietor  of 
a  cab,  for  causing  an  obstruction  in  Davies-stroet,  by  loitering  and  wilful 
misbehavior.  His  lordship  complained  that,  the  cab  stood  in  the  way 
of  his  carriage,  and  that,  though  the  driver  had  no  fare,  he  (his  lordship) 
had  to  call  out  three  times  before  the  man  would  move.  The  driver 
told  the  magistrate  that  he  was  at  Chiswick  at  the  time.  The  groom, 
who  confirmed  Lord  Fitzhardinge's  statement  throughout,  when  asked 
the  number  of  the  cab,  said  it  was  2,326.  The  defendant's  number 
being  2,336,  the  mistake  was  obvious.  Earl  Fitzhardinge  said  his  im 
pression  was  that  the  number  of  the  cab  was  2,336,  but  of  course  he 
would  not  contend  that  he  was  not  liable  to  mistake.  The  summons 
was  then  dismissed. —  W.  News. 

FRACAS. — At  the  Marylebone  Police-court,  yesterday,  Major  Cooke, 
one  of  her  Majesty's  Gentlemen-at-Arms,  was  charged,  before  Mr.  Long, 
with  illegally  detaining  an  umbrella,  the  alleged  property  of  Dr.  Pres 
ton,  M.  D.  Both  are  members  of  the  Army  and  Navy  Club.  Mr.  Long 
asked  if  the  umbrella  in  question  was  produced,  but  was  answered  in 
the  negative.  A  gentleman,  who  attended  for  complainant,  entered 
into  a  statement  of  the  fact",  and,  after  proceeding  for  some  time,  Mr. 
Long  said  the  simple  question  before  him  was,  does  Major  Cooke  detain 
the  umbrella  or  does  he  not  ?  Cannot  a  matter  like  this  be  settled  be 
tween  two  gentlemen  without  going  any  farther?  Dr.  Preston  said, 
on  the  13th  January  last  he  missed  his  umbrella  from  the  outer  hall  of 
the  club-house,  and  saw  no  more  of  it  until  the  8th  ult,  when  he  saw 
it  in  the  same  place  where  he  had  left  it,  and  took  possession  of  it.  On 
the  same  day,  Major  Cooke  came  into  the  room  where  he  was  seated, 
and  claimed  the  umbrella  as  his,  saying  he  had  had  it  more  than  two 
years.  Major  Cooke  seized  it  out  of  his  hand  and  broke  it  in  two.  The 
value  was  12s.  After  e  deal  of  evidence,  pro  and  con.,  had  been  gone 
into  respecting  the  identity  of  the  umbrella,  Mr.  Long  dismissed  the 
Bummons,  and  said  he  regretted  it  had  been  brought  there. — Post. 

When  the  wealthiest  commoner  in  England  sues  a  cabman 


158  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

for  fourpence,  and  one  gentleman  accuses  another  of  stealing 
his  umbrella,  and  brings  an  action  for  the  recovery  of  twelve 
shillings,  its  reputed  value,  no  one  can  doubt  that  the  sordid 
principle  acts  as  smoothly  as  the  American  reaping  ma 
chine. 

It  is  a  common  habit  with  Englishmen  to  depreciate  the 
intelligence,  and  ridicule  the  manners  of  the  Americans, 
with  whom  chance  brings  them  in  contact,  during  their  pere 
grinations  in  Europe,  and  the  East.  I  rarely  met  with  a 
number  of  Galignani's  Messenger  in  which  I  did  not  find 
copied  from  English  papers,  some  studied  sneer  at  the  igno 
rance  and  vulgarity  of  American  travellers.  They  seemed 
unable  to  understand  how  people,  of  the  comparatively  lim 
ited  fortunes  of  the  Americans,  could  be  actuated  by  a  de 
sire  to  sec  the  world.  They  deemed  it  a  much  higher  evidence 
of  wisdom  to  remain  quietly  at  home,  and  to  spend  their  dol 
lars  in  comfort  and  peace,  than  to  go  traipsing  through  strange 
cities,  and  foreign  lands.  They  appear  to  regard  travelling 
as  one  of  the  onerous  necessities  which  pursue  very  rich 
men  ;  men  whose  incomes  surpass  the  entire  possessions  of 
our  wealthiest  citizens.  Such  principles  were  no  doubt  well 
suited  to  the  sordid  disposition  and  sedentary  habits  of  Eng 
lishmen,  but  they  but  ill  accorded  with  the  enlightened  en 
ergy  of  Americans.  I  shall  make  no  observations  on  the 
character  of  travellers  one  meets  from  our  own  country  ;  but 
I  beg  the  indulgence  of  my  readers,  while  I  give  some  of 
my  opinions  and  experience  of  the  Englishmen  I  have  met  in 
my  wanderings. 

An  Englishman  travels  for  no  better  reason  than  that 
everybody  docs  so.  He  visits  the  various  capitals  of  Europe, 
lounges  through  their  picture  galleries,  and  dozes  over  their 
ruins,  as  lie  drags  through  the  classics,  and  takes  a  degree 
at  college  :  his  position  in  society  demands  it.  With  him 
travelling  is  a  stupid  duty,  and  not  the  highest  of  intellectual 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  159 

pleasures ;  it  is  a  necessary  probation,  which  every  English 
man  of  a  certain  degree  of  wealth  is  condemned  to  pass 
through.  He  submits  to  it  as  to  any  other  inexorable  ne 
cessity,  but  manifests  his  dissatisfaction  by  grumbling  sneers 
at  every  thing,  from  Paris  to  Jerusalem.  The  French  don't 
know  how  to  roast  '•  a  joint,"  their  conceptions  of  wash-ba 
sins  are  altogether  too  contracted  in  Germany,  he  is  fleeced 
by  rascally  dragomen  at  Constantinople,  and  finds  nothing 
but  fleas  and  discomfort  in  the  Holy  Land.  He  solemnly 
protests  that  he  has  seen  nothing  that  it  was  possible  for  him 
to  eat,  since  he  left  England ;  and  yet  he  retains  his  scarlet 
hues,  and  corpulent  tendencies,  in  a  manner  wonderfully 
mysterious,  if  we  believe  he  has  lived  on  air.  In  his  accus 
tomed  potations  of  malt  liquors,  he  is  more  fortunate,  as  his 
bullying  complaints  and  noisy  censure  have  stocked  every 
hotel  in  the  East  with  stale  ale  and  muddy  porter. 

He  penetrates  the  parched  depths  of  the  desert  to  boast 
of  having  ridden  a  camel,  and  makes  pilgrimages  to  the  ho 
liest  spots,  merely  for  the  gratification  of  declaring  his  be 
lief  that  they  are  not  those  which  are  designated  in  the 
Scriptures.  It  is  fashionable  in  England  to  be  skeptical 
about  sacred  localities  !  He  discredits  the  wonderful  events 
which  attended  the  exodus  of  the  Jews  from  Egypt.  He 
coolly  argues  the  impossibility  of  the  Children  of  Israel 
passing  through  the  bed  of  the  Red  Sea  on  dry  land,  and 
ridicules  the  idea  of  Moses'  sweetening  the  waters  of  the 
bitter  well  of  Marah,  amidst  the  very  scenes  which  witness 
ed  the  accomplishment  of  these  miracles.  He  journeys  to 
Mount  Sinai  to  sneer,  and  enters  the  Holy  Land  with  no  ho 
lier  motive  than  prompted  young  Sheridan  to  descend  the 
coal-pit :  merely  to  say  he  had  been  there.  In  a  spot  where 
I  had  thought  that  disbelief  would  be  awed,  and  even  blasphe 
my  silent,  in  the  sacred  grotto  of  Bethlehem,  I  have  heard  an 
Englishman  utter  rude  and  indecent  jests  about  the  Virgin 


160  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

and  lier  child.  I  was  not  surprised  that  he  went  to  Jerusa 
1cm.  a  confirmed  follower  of  that  reverend  apostate,  Clarke, 
who  lias  attempted  to  derange  all  the  received  opinions,  as 
to  the  scenes  connected  with  the  crucifixion  and  burial  of 
our  Saviour.  If  he  sincerely  believed  that  the  spots,  which 
have  for  more  than  a  thousand  years  excited  the  religious 
enthusiasm,  and  received  the  pious  adoration  of  pilgrims  of 
every  sect,  were  in  no  way  connected  with  the  death  of  Je 
sus,  then  it  was  less  impious  for  him  to  scoff  whilst  standing 
onCalvary,and  to  laugh  within  the  site  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 
What  shall  we  say  of  the  sacrilegious  attempt  of  that 
worse  than  infidel  to  profane  the  Holy  Places  of  our  Faith  ? 
Though  they  might  not  have  been  what  they  are  believed  to 
be,  it  was  an  inhuman  deed  to  destroy  so  pure  a  super 
stition — they  should  have  been  sacred  as  symbols  of  our 
religion,  which  the  common  consent  of  fifteen  centuries  has  re 
garded  as  holy.  Although  Mr.  Clarke  had  possessed  positive 
proofs  of  their  not  being  the  scenes  of  our  Saviour's  death  and 
burial,  yet  had  he  been  as  pious  as  he  was  desirous  to  appear 
learned,  he  would  have  spared  them.  Time  and  association 
have  united  in  making  them  the  most  impressive  emblems 
of  the  events  they  are  designed  to  commemorate,  and  a  sin 
cere  Christian  could  never  have  assailed  their  sanctity.  Is 
the  Lord's  Supper  to  be  considered  as  a  less  solemn  rite  of 
Christianity,  because  it  is  but  the  simple  commemoration  of 
His  death?  Are  the  wine  and  bread  to  be  regarded  as  less 
holy,  because  they  are  not  actually  His  blood  and  body  ? 
But  the  reverend  Mr.  Clarke  was  not  satisfied  with  demol 
ishing  that  beauteous  structure,  which  the  faith  of  fifteen 
hundred  years  had  been  building  up.  His  ambition  aspired 
to  the  distinction  of  a  theory  of  his  own.  He  made  him 
self  absurd  by  professing,  after  all  the  changes  which  time, 
and  the  different  wars  and  dynasties,  must  have  produced 
in  the  Holy  City,  to  possess  advantages  for  determining  the 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  161 

sacred  localities,  very  far  superior  to  those  enjoyed  by  St 
Helena  fifteen  hundred  years  before.  He  did  not  simply 
deny  the  identity  of  the  Holy  Places,  but  had  the  audacity 
to  select  localities  of  his  own.  It  would  be  difficult  to  dis 
cover  so  extraordinary  a  combination  of  folly,  vanity,  and 
sacrilege,  as  that  presented  by  this  pedantic  divine.  A  in^n- 
ster  so  atrocious  could  only  have  been  a  Goth  or  an  English 
man. 

As  our  English  acquaintance  was  an  avowed  disciple  of 
Mr.  Clarke,  though  he  was  a  man  of  wealth  and  considera 
tion  at  home — he  was  remotely  and  mysteriously  connected 
with  the  Duke  of  Wellington — it  was  not  surprising  that  he 
was  not  much  impressed  by  a  visit  to  the  church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre.  But  it  is  a  little  singular  that  the  consciousness 
of  being  in  Jerusalem,  the  unmistakable  witness  of  so  many 
extraordinary  events,  did  not  afford  him  some  more  appro 
priate  topics  of  conversation  than  insipid  anecdotes  of  the 
English  nobility  and  wearisome  complaints  of  the  hotel — its 
servants  and  its  fare.  He  went  every  where,  and  apparently 
saw  every  thing,  but  as  an  evidence  of  how  slightly  he  could 
have  been  interested  in  the  sacred  objects  around  him,  he 
had  been  eight  days  in  Jerusalem,  and  his  trunks  were 
packed  for  his  departure  the  next  morning,  but  he  was  not 
positive  as  to  the  location  of  the  Mount  of  Olives.  He  often 
wondered  at  his  own  folly  in  venturing  into  a  country  where 
there  was  so  much  discomfort — where  there  was  positively 
nothing  to  see  and  not  much  to  eat.  He  candidly  acknow 
ledged,  that  hearing  so  many  of  his  acquaintances  boast  of 
visiting  Jerusalem,  had  betrayed  him  into  the  weakness  of 
wishing  to  say  that  he  had  been  there  too.  But  that  if  he 
could  be  forgiven  for  his  rashness  in  coming  once,  that  he  hoped 
some  terrible  calamity  might  befall  him  if  he  was  ever  caught 
east  of  Paris  again.  He  never  ventured  on  his  impressions 
of  what  he  visited,  but  once,  when  after  his  return  from  a 


162  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

visit  to  the  river  Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea,  he  thought  he 
had  passed  some  place  famous  for  some  battle,  he  did  not 
precisely  know  which,  but  he  rather  thought  it  was  near  the 
brook  from  which  David  took  the  pebbles  to  slay  Goliath. 
And  yet  every  body  who  had  ever  visited  Syria,  or  read  the 
bi^efest  account  of  the  country,  ought  to  have  known  that  the 
identical  brook  was  in  exactly  the  opposite  direction.  At 
parting,  he  was  peculiarly  considerate  in  his  admonitions, 
and  most  earnestly  insisted  on  our  visiting  Mount  Carmcl. 
"  Omit  what  you  like  besides,  but  you  must  go  there." 
"For,"  said  he — and  I  waited,  with  breathless  anxiety,  a 
burst  of  enthusiasm  about  the  desolate  grandeur  and  religious 
associations  of  the  place — :;  For,"  repeated  he,  ':  the  only 
tolerable  dinner  I  have  had  since  I  have  been  in  Syria,  was 
at  the  convent  of  Mount  Carinel."  Shade  of  Elijah  hear 
him  !  He  had  stood  upon  the  sacred  summit  of  Sinai — had 
ascended  Mount  Carmcl — wandered  along  the  banks  of  the 
stormy  Jordan — visited  Bethlehem — and  was  then  in  Jeru 
salem — and  the  only  treasured  recollection  he  was  carrying 
away  with  him  from  the  Holy  Land,  was  that  of  having  en 
joyed  a  passable  dinner  at  Mount  Carmel.  The  celebrated 
John  Hunter  stated,  as  a  curious  fact,  that  the  jawbone 
always  predominated  in  proportion  to  the  absence  of  brains. 
As  this  was  a  scientific  observation  of  the  learned  gentleman, 
it  ought  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  the  only  thing  in  Syria 
which  our  Englishman  was  able  to  appreciate,  was  the  fare 
at  the  Convent  of  Carmel. 

In  mentioning  the  name  of  Greece,  I  feel  a  momentary 
forgetfulness  of  the  sterile  subject  I  have  selected  for  my 
book.  I  no  longer  remember  either  Englishmen  or  their 
country.  The  name  of  Greece  recalls  to  me  countless  joyous 
memories  and  delicious  associations.  The  season  in  which 
I  visited  it  makes  nature  in  any  form  enchanting.  It  was 
in  early  Spring,  when  the  year  is  too  young  to  know  aught 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  163 

else  but  gladness  and  sunshine :  when  the  verdure  is  all 
freshness,  the  flowers  are  all  beauty,  and  the  birds  all  song. 
I  had  never  known  before  the  pain  of  feeling  all  a  poet's 
longings,  without  the  genius  to  embody  them  into  words. 
The  torrents  from  Helicon  and  Parnassus  were  full,  and 
foamed  furiously  by.  Every  plain  was  dotted  with  flowers  : 
every  bush  had  its  nightingale.  A  visit  to  Greece  had  been 
a  pet  dream  since  my  boyhood.  But  its  associations,  its 
ruins  and  its  battle-fields  were  what  I  thought  would  charm 
me.  I  was  not  prepared  for  the  rare  beauty  of  scenery 
which  greeted  me.  Its  storied  mountains,  where  the  Muses 
wandered  and  Apollo  sung,  with  their  beetling  crags  and 
crowning  firs,  possessed  all  the  wildness  and  picturesque 
beauty  that  Switzerland  boasts.  Its  classic  vales  and  im 
mortal  battle-fields,  of  which  I  had  read  earliest,  and  dreamed 
most,  were  strewn  with  wild  flowers. — so  fair,  so  frail,  so  va 
ried,  that  the  Muses  might  have  discarded  their  laurel  to 
have  garlanded  their  tresses  with  such  loveliness.  And 
then  the  music  of  the  nightingale  !  But  how  shall  I  de 
scribe  what  is  indescribable  ?  All  the  glowing  enthusiasm 
of  Oriental  romance  ;  all  that  I  had  ever  read  of  his  poetic 
loves  with  the  rose ;  all  that  I  had  ever  dreamed  of  the 
music  of  ;:  bright  Apollo's  lute,  strung  with  his  hair,"  which 
"  makes  heaven  drowsy  with  the  harmony,"  had  given  me 
110  conception  of  the  melody  of  the  nightingale's  song ;  and, 
when  heard  for  the  first  time  in  Greece,  by  the  side  of  a 
waterfall,  with  the  beams  of  the  full  moon  dancing  in  the 
spray,  it  afforded  a  ravishing  delight  I  had  never  known  be 
fore,  and  fear  I  shall  never  know  again. 

In  Athens  I  met  a  couple  of  Englishmen,  who  proposed 
to  join  my  party.  As  I  was  entirely  alone,  I,  of  course, 
consented,  and  we  commenced  a  journey  into  the  country 
together.  I  was  somewhat  shocked,  in  the  beginning,  by 
one  of  the  gentlemen,  who,  in  gazing  for  the  last  time  upon 


164  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  Acropolis,  crowned  with  the  shattered  glories  of  the 
Parthenon,  could  give  utterance  to  no  less  commonplace  ob 
servation,  than  that  Athens  reminded  him  very  much  of 
"  EdenboroV  But  we  jogged  sociably  on  among  classic 
ruins,  glorious  battle-fields,  and  sacred  mountains,  and  paused 
at  Helicon.  I  jumped  from  my  horse,  and  eagerly  traced 
Hippocrene's  murmuring  rill  to  its  source.  I  could  almost 
see  the  mark  of  Pegasus'  fiery  hoof,  when,  in  stamping,  he 
had  called  the  bubbling  fountain  up.  I  could  hear  the  min 
strelsy  of  the  tuneful  nine  in  the  warbling  of  every  bird  that 
twittered  by.  I  could  almost  imagine  that  I  saw  Euterpe's 
laughing  face  peeping  from  behind  a  rock.  The  silence,  the 
grandeur,  and  the  associations  of  the  spot  seemed  only  sug 
gestive  to  the  Englishmen  that  "  it  would  be  a  capital  place 
to  take  lunch  !  "  True  votaries  of  Silenus,  they  could  not 
forego  their  orgies  here,  but  drank  porter  and  discussed 
sandwiches  as  complacently  in  the  favorite  haunt  of  the 
Muses  as  if  they  had  been  seated  in  a  London  tavern. 

I  could  forgive  them  for  a  want  of  enthusiasm,  for  I  had 
seen  too  much  of  Englishmen  to  expect  from  them  any 
great  demonstration  of  sensibility.  But,  however  much  I 
might  feel  inclined  to  be  lenient,  I  could  not  readily  forget 
a  degree  of  ignorance  of  the  common  history  of  Greece  that 
would  have  subjected  the  dunce  of  a  country  school  to  a 
posterior  application  of  birch.  It  seems  almost  incredible 
that  men  of  any  nation,  who  had  arrived  at  the  years  of 
discretion,  should  have  been  so  lamentably  deficient  in  such 
ordinary  knowledge.  They  thought  that  the  battles  of 
Marathon  and  Salamis  had  been  fought  on  the  same  day. 
Hadn't  the  remotest  idea  who  were  -engaged  in  the  battle 
of  Leuctra,  but  had  a  deep-rooted  conviction  that  the  Per 
sians  were  in  no  way  connected  with  Platsea.  They  went 
to  Parnassus  to  see  siglit.s,  and  had  a  very  vague  impression 
as  to  what  Delphi  was  celebrated  for.  But  there  was  one 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  165 

subject  on  which  they  seemed  profoundly  learned  :  it  was 
the  highly  interesting  subject  of  "stinks."  'Tis  their  own 
generic  term  ;  and,  if  I  write  my  annals  true,  I  feel  compelled 
to  use  their  very  words,  although,  I  confess.  I  do  so  in  vio 
lation  of  my  own  ideas  of  propriety.  I  beg  the  indulgence 
of  those  who  feel  like  myself  on  this  subject,  for  I  am  con 
scious  that  in  illustrating  the  proneness  of  the  English  to 
vulgarity,  I  may  myself  appear  guilty.  Although  these 
classical  gentlemen  entertained  for  the  whole  genus  of  bad 
odors  the  antipathy  shared  by  humanity  in  general,  yet  they 
would  nose  them  out.  trace  them  to  their  origin,  and  classify 
them  under  their  particular  heads,  with  an  avidity  that  was 
quite  surprising.  Their  animosity  for  stinks,  like  that  of 
terrier  dogs  for  rats,  prompted  them  to  run  down,  and,  if 
possible,  catch  every  unfortunate  of  the  species  that  happened 
to  cross  their  path ;  and  it  really  appeared  to  afford  them 
the  intensest  satisfaction  to  determine  whether  their  latest 
capture  could  be  most  properly  placed  in  the  positive,  the 
comparative,  or  superlative  degree  of  stinks.  They  were 
eternally  going  out  of  their  way  to  stumble  upon  something 
':  rotten,"  and  were  much  given  to  having  uncommonly 
"  nasty  "  feelings  even  at  meal  times.  The  weather,  accord 
ing  to  their  report,  was  frequently  "  funky  ;"  the  houses  we 
were  compelled  to  occupy  were  always  "filthy;"  and  the 
fare  was  positively  ':  beastly." 

Englishmen  pride  themselves  extremely  on  the  off-hand 
frankness  with  which  they  always  give  things  their  right 
names.  Those,  whose  associations  with  these  people  have 
forced  them  to  hear  such  expressions  as  those  quoted  above, 
must  feel  thoroughly  convinced  of  their  strict  adherence  to  the 
rule.  Though  I  must  confess  that  I  think  an  occasional  de 
parture  from  it  would  be  desirable,  for  the  sake  of  delicacy, 
if  not  decency.  The  English  ridicule  Americans  for  their 
excessive  particularity  in  avoiding  offensive  expression.  All 


1GG  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

must  agree,  however,  that  it  is  better  to  err  on  our  side,  than 
their  own.  We  had  better  be  over  nice,  than  generally  use, 
as  the  English  do,  such  terms  as  I  have  felt  compelled  to 
disfigure  my  pages  with,  which  ordinary  refinement  should 
banish  from  the  conversation  of  every  gentleman.  I  would 
advise  the  English  to  use  expletives,  even  with  the  danger  of 
being  diffuse,  rather  than  be  so  blunt,  and  so  vulgar. 

I  am  surprised  that  men,  who  had  forgotten,  or  even 
never  known  the  history  of  Greece,  could  have  traversed  its 
sacred  soil,  without  becoming  familiar  with  those  brilliant 
events  which  have  made  her  heroism  a  proverb.  It  is  won 
derful  that  men  even  of  the  most  ordinary  attainments  could 
wander  amidst  "  scenes  that  our  earliest  dreams  have  dwelt 
upon."  so  utterly  ignorant  of  ':  man's  divinest  lore."  But 
wonder  becomes  amazement,  when  I  remember  that  these 
gentlemen,  with  whom  I  travelled,  were  a  Fellow  in  Oxford 
University,  and  a  Captain  in  Her  Majesty's  service.  Al 
though  they  might  have  forgotten,  since  there  boyish  days, 
much  of  Greece's  history,  yet  it  does  seem  strange  that  in 
visiting  the  country,  they  should  have  been  too  indolent  to 
refresh  their  memories,  more  especially  as  they  had  one  of 
John  Murray's  lied  Books  between  them.  It  seems  to  me 
that  Greece  and  her  annals  should  possess  a  peculiar  charm 
for  the  scholar,  and  the  soldier.  The  precepts  of  her  sages 
and  beauties  of  her  poets  are  as  valuable  to  one,  as  the 
stories  of  her  valiant  sons  should  be  interesting  to  the  other, 
lint  how  could  an  Englishman  read  even  Murray,  whilst  he 
carried  a  bottle  of  porter  in  his  saddle-bags,  and  sandwiches 
in  his  pockets? 

National  pride  in  Byron  should  have  made  them  more 
familiar  with  his  favorite  Greece.  I  had  myself  traced  the 
noble  pilgrim  through  many  wild  and  beautiful  scenes.  I 
had  read  his  eloquent  bursts  of  emotion,  upon  the  classic 
spots  which  called  them  forth,  and  admired  them  more,  be- 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  1G7 

cause  they  had  inspired  such  a  mind.  I  could  not  forgive, 
there,  his  stockish  countrymen,  for  their  insensibility  to  both. 
But  an  ignorance  of  Byron  is  deemed  becoming  in  the  more 
exemplary  members  of  society  in  England.  It  has  become 
as  fashionable  to  disparage  his  genius,  as  it  was  formerly  to 
traduce  his  character.  They  have  toppled  him  down  from 
the  niche  which  should  have  been  sacred  to  him  in  the  ad 
miration  of  his  countrymen,  and  are  laboring  to  lift  Mr. 
Alfred  Tennyson  into  his  place.  Byron  and  Tennyson! 
What  an  unholy  alliance  of  names  !  What  sinful  juxtapo 
sition  !  He  who  could  seriously  compare  the  insipid  effu 
sions  of  Mr.  Tennyson,  with  the  mighty  genius  of  Byron, 
might  commit  the  sacrilege  of  likening  the  tricks  of  Profes 
sor  Anderson  to  the  miracles  of  our  Saviour. 

Most  men  have  their  peculiarities,  and  many  their 
weaknesses.  Our  English  scholar's  particular  passion  was 
water-cresses.  He  was  great  on  experimental  consultation, 
and  made  it  a  rule  never  to  put  a  question  directly.  He 
grew  tired,  and  wished  to  turn  back.  He  wondered  interro 
gatively  what  there  was  to  be  seen  at  Parnassus ;  and  when 
informed  there  was  the  view  from  the  summit  of  the  moun 
tain,  the  grot  of  Apollo,  and  the  ruins  of  the  temple  of  the 
oracle  at  Delphi,  he  sorrowfully  expressed  his  conviction 
that,  after  all  the  "  bother,"  it  wouldn't  pay.  But  when  the 
dragoman  vaguely  intimated  that  the  finest  water-cresses  in 
the  world  grew  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  he  not  only  ap 
peared  consoled  for  the  necessary  fatigue,  but  even  mani 
fested  an  unwonted  alacrity  towards  the  end  of  the  journey. 
Every  breeze  that  breathed  from  the  snow-clad  peak  of  Par 
nassus,  came  laden  to  him  with  the  refreshing  odors  of  water- 
cresses.  There  seemed  to  be  renovating  influences  in  every 
whiff.  As  we  advanced,  his  grim  looks  of  dissatisfaction  be 
came  more  and  more  relaxed ;  and,  on  our  arrival,  he  had 
not  only  succeeded  in  getting  up  a  much  better  appetite  than 


168  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

his  ordinarily  remarkably  healthy  one,  but  he  found  himself 
in  a  much  happier  frame  of  mind  than  common  for  the  en 
joyment  of  the  lions  of  the  place.  A  messenger  was  instantly 
dispatched  for  his  favorite  dish.  He  had  cresses  for  dinner, 
cresses  for  supper,  and  cresses  the  next  morning  for  break 
fast  ;  and,  issuing  forth  under  their  mollifying  influence,  he 
seemed  relieved  from  the  harassing  suspicion  that,  in  coming 
to  Parnassus,  he  had  been  the  victim  of  "a  regular  sell." 
lie  rather  thought  that  the  temple  "  would  do,"  and  that  the 
grotto  "  was  not  so  bad ;"  but  he  had  seen  much  finer  views 
from  Scawfell  Pike,  which  he  kindly  informed  me  was  the 
highest  mountain  in  England,  than  from  the  top  of  Mount 
Parnassus.  Oh,  vanity  and  water-cresses  !  Absurdity  and 
Englishmen  !  It  seemed  nothing  to  him  to  be  where  Apollo 
dwelt,  and  Byron  had  been.  But  in  our  ascent  he  alarmed 
me  by  expressing  a  distressing  apprehension  of  being  about 
to  ':  funk."  This  mysterious  intimation  was  more  startling, 
as  I  was  altogether  ignorant  of  what  terrible  consequences 
might  result  from  the  unknown  process  of  " funking.'1'1  I 
was  as  much  relieved  as  himself  when  he  .stopped  at  the 
grot,  to  be  informed  that  "  funking"  was  the  briefly  elegant 
acceptation  of  the  word  giving  out.  He  did  nothing  during 
our  entire  stay  on  the  mountain,  but  complain  of  great  short 
ness  of  breath,  and  weariness  of  limbs.  He  blamed  every 
body  for  inducing  him  to  start,  and  could  discover  nothing 
to  compensate  him  for  such  labor.  He  did  not  seem  aware 
that  even  then  nymphs,  and  fauns,  and  Pan  with  his  satyrs 
might  be  frolicking  along  the  banks  of  the  brawling  brook 
that  dashed  across  our  path.  He  never  suspected  that  the 
Muses  were  timorously  hiding  in  that  leafy  covert ;  and  did 
not  once  hear  the  notes  of  Apollo's  lyre  mingling  with  the  sighs 
of  the  moaning  firs.  But  he  was  somewhat  consoled  on  reach 
ing  the  top,  by  disparaging  Parnassus  to  praise  Scawfell  Pike. 
An  Englishman  seems  never  convinced  that  thore  is  any  thing 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  169 

out  of  England  equal  to  what  be  boasts  of  in  it.  He  will 
prefer  an  English  mill-dam  to  Niagara,  and  compare  one  of 
our  great  Northern  Lakes  to  some  nobleman's  fish-pond. 

It  is  a  favorite  amusement  of  Englishmen  to  enlarge 
upon  the  peculiarities  of  our  nasal  twang,  and  to  enumerate 
our  ';  provincialisms."  Because  we  have  not  imitated  them, 
in  the  abuses  of  the  language,  into  which  vulgarity  has  be 
trayed  them,  we  are  pronounced  guilty  of  "provincialisms." 
In  alluding  to  the  corrections  we  have  made,  of  their  own 
glaring  improprieties  of  speech,  they  seem  to  forget  that 
America  is  no  longer  a  province. 

In  their  attempts  to  be  merry  at  our  expense,  they  appear 
wholly  oblivious  of  that  ^extraordinary  'abit  of  a  vast  ma 
jority  of  cockneys,  of  always  making  the  h  silent,  and  aspi 
rating  the  vowels  in  the  beginning  of  a  word.  On  which  of 
our  remotest  frontiers  could  they  discover  such  an  unpar 
donable  violation  of  good  grammar  and  good  taste  ?  Yet 
this  habit  of  dropping,  and  adding  the  h,  is  universal  among 
the  lower  and  middle  orders,  from  London  to  Wales,  and  is 
very  prevalent  among  the  highest  and  most  polished.  But 
whilst  we  are  on  the  subject  of  "  provincialisms,"  what  shall 
we  say  of  the  heathenish  dialects  of  several  different  shires 
in  England,  which  neither  Christians  nor  Englishmen,  out  of 
their  particular  counties,  could  pretend  to  understand  ? 
Where  will  they  look  for  such  in  America  ?  We  may  add 
to  the  significations  of  the  words  clever  and  smart,  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  great  national  right,  which  permitted 
England  to  form  her  remarkable  compound  of  Saxon  and 
Norman-French,  might  confer  on  us  the  privilege  of  extend 
ing  the  acceptation  of  a  few  unimportant  words.  Even  in 
our  most  figurative  meaning  of  the  word  smart,  we  make  a 
near  approach  to  its  original  signification ;  how  do  the  Eng 
lish  force  it  into  conveying  an  idea  of  showy,  flashy  dress  ? 
8 


170  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

But  we  often  adhere  to  the  strictly  proper  acceptation  of  a 
word,  whilst  they  arbitrarily  depart  from  it.  Plain  means, 
according  to  Johnson,  simple,  unadorned,  and  not  ugly  as 
the  English  would  have  it.  in  applying  the  term  to  women. 
Stout,,  if  we  can  believe  the  same  authority,  signifies  strong, 
brave,  lusty,  and  not/a£,  as  the  English  generally  use  it. 

But  of  whatever  indiscretions  of  speech  we  may  be 
guilty,  we  are  certainly  saved  the  mortification  of  the  insuf 
ferable  vulgarity  of  applying  the  chaste  term  beautiful  to 
greasy  articles  of  food.  This  is  a  distinction  reserved  in 
undivided  glory,  for  the  most  enlightened  nation  of  the  nine 
teenth  century.  "  Beautiful  mutton  ! "  "  Beautiful  pota 
toes  !  "  Ugh  how  shockingly  disgusting  !  Who  but  a  can 
nibal  or  an  Englishman  could  discover  any  thing  of  the  beau 
tiful  about  what  he  had  to  eat  ?  I  can  imagine  an  epicure 
of  the  Tongo  islands  remarking  to  a  sympathizing  friend, 
when  some  fair  shipwrecked  damsel  had  fallen  into  his  hands, 
that  she  would  make  a  "  beautiful  roast,"  but  it  requires  the 
refined  perceptions  of  an  Englishman  to  appreciate  the  beau 
ties  of  a  cabbage-head.  As  my  learned  companion  in 
Greece  is  an  especial  favorite  of  mine,  I  hope  I  shall  be  ex 
cused  for  again  introducing  him.  for  the  sake  of  illustration. 
The  only  wild  bursts  of  enthusiasm  into  which  he  was  ever 
betrayed,  from  "  Suuiuin's  marbled  height "  to  the  immortal 
pass  of  Thermopylae,  was  whilst  ogling  a  dish  of  "  beautiful 
water-cresses."  His  soft,  susceptible  heart  daily  succumb*ed 
to  an  ecstasy  of  excitement,  before  a  brilliantly  green  plate  of 
his  favorite  salad.  If  there  ever  was  an  occasion  when  this 
excitement  ceased  to  be  utterly  ridiculous,  it  was  at  Parnas 
sus.  For  these  were  classic  cresses.  They  had  been  culled 
on  the  poetical  borders  of  the  Castalian  fountain.  They  had 
sprung  from  '  holy,  haunted  ground."  Protected  by  the  sha 
dow  of  Parnassus,  and  nurtured  by  the  waters  of  the  immortal 
brook,  they  might  have  borne  about  them,  for  aught  I  know 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  ll 

something  of  that  poetical  inspiration,  anciently  attributed 
to  the  fountain.  They  certainly  possessed  an  interest  for 
me  from  the  charm  of  association  ;  and  I  pressed  in  my 
pocket  edition  of  Childe  Harold  a  few  leaves,  as  a  memento 
of  Apollo's  favorite  haunt.  But  they  were  cresses  still ! 
And  how  the  Englishman  could  apply  the  term  "  beautiful " 
to  them,  as  a  wholesome  and  palatable  vegetable,  I  cannot 
pretend  to  understand. 

In  America  we  conceive  the  highest  evidences  of  beauty 
to  be  afforded  by  women  and  flowers  ;  but  Englishmen,  more 
discriminating,  chiefly  delight  in  "  beautiful  roast-beef  "  and 
"beautiful  porter."  There  is  no  accounting  for  tastes  in 
this  world,  and  an  Englishman  may  really  discover  more 
personal  charms,  if  I  might  use  the  expression,  about  a  fat 
sirloin  of  beef,  than  in  the  loveliest  woman.  But  in  apply 
ing  the  term  "  beautiful "  to  beef  and  porter,  he  means  not 
so  much  to  intimate  that  they  are  pleasing  to  the  eye,  as 
that  they  are  deliciously  titillating  to  the  palate.  In  thia 
the  extreme  grossness  of  the  impropriety  consists. 

Although  I  have  acquitted  the  more  refined  and  bettei 
educated  people  of  Great  Britain  of  being  universally  guilty 
of  the  vulgar  liberties  the  middle  classes  take  with  the  &, 
yet  the  disposition  to  indulge  in  them  is  very  decided,  in 
even  the  highest  in  London,  and  this  habit,  illiterate  as  it  is, 
prevails  very  commonly  in  all  the  provincial  towns.  The 
most  elegant  and  refined  talk  constantly  of  ''•fried  :am"  al 
though  they  are  not  often  guilty  of  the  atrocity  of  adding 
"the  /ieggs."  They  sentimentally  insist  that  "  there  is  no 
place  like  'ome,"  and  always  salute  a  friend  with  "  'ow  d'ye 
do."  They  compliment  a  lady  as  being  very  "  'andsome  ;" 
they  invariably  commence  a  question  of  time  by  "wen,"  and 
fearfully  transform  the  simple  relative  pronoun  into  a"wich." 
These  are  but  a  few  examples  of  the  propensity  of  the  most 
refined  people  of  England  to  ^adopt  the  general  custom. 


172  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

They  seem  very  reluctant  to  /^acknowledge  this  peculiarly 
//exceptionable  'abit,  and  //insist  that  kit  his  confined  to  the 
low  and  //ignorant  of  the  country.  But  it  is  universal  among 
educated  people,  whose  wealth  far  surpasses  that  of  our  rich 
est  citizens,  and  it  is  not  at  all  uncommon  among  the  highest 
and  most  polished  circles.  We  don't  /^aspirate  our  vowels 
in  America.  Turn  your  //eyes  hou  this  picture  and  /*on 
that. 

In  a  couplet  of  "Ben  Jonson,  which  I  am  sorry  not  to 
be  able  to  recall,  Thames  is  made  to  rhyme  to  James,  show 
ing  that  in  those  good  old  times  the  name  of  the  river  was 
pronounced  as  a  Christian  or  a  reasonable  man  would  pro 
nounce  it  now,  instead  of  vulgarly  mincing  it  into  "Terns," 
as  the  present  race  of  Englishmen  do.  They  say  Wool'ich 
and  Greeu'ich,  when  they  mean  Woolwich  and  Greenwich. 
They  metamorphose  Alnwick  into  Artick  and  Warwick  into 
Warwick.  The  mighty  "  King-maker"  is  divested  of  a  por 
tion  of  his  dignity,  and  "the  Last  of  the  Barons  "  loses  some 
of  his  grandeur,  when  we  hear  him  called  the  great  Earl  of 
War'ick.  The  abominable  abbreviation  smacks  too  strongly 
of  cockneyism  and  smells  of  the  ale-house.  It  is  opposed 
in  sound,  as  in  association,  to  all  our  preconceived  notions  of 
the  valiant  Guy.  The  famous  race  of  England  is  always 
spoken  of  as  "the  Darby."  But  the  Earl  of  Derby,  although 
in  his  ministerial  relations  he  has  been  supposed  to  bear  very 
close  analogy  to  an  old  woman,  has  scarcely  deserved  of  his 
countrymen  to  have  his  melodious  title  changed  into,  such  a 
sobriquet  as  Darby. 

How  can  they  force  stone  into  "stun  ? "  In  this  instance 
they  are  not  satisfied  with  arbitrarily  interfering  with  weights 
and  measures,  but  do  violence  to  all  the  ordinary  rules  of 
pronunciation,  with  "stun."  They  hud  much  better  pro 
nounce  it  ton  at  once,  more  especially  as  this  standard  would 
be  infinitely  more  convenient  for  determining  the  gross  weight 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  1*73 

of  Englishmen  than  either  pounds  or  stone.  But  it  seema 
the  British  nation  are  sensitive  on  the  score  of  weight.  In 
opposition,  therefore,  to  every  other  nation  in  the  world,  they 
have  adopted  a  stone  instead  of  a  pound,  as  the  unit  in  as 
certaining  the  gravity  of  British  flesh  and  blood.  To  unso 
phisticated  ears,  21  stone,  6  pounds,  sounds  infinitely  less 
than  three  hundred  pounds,  which  weight  is  a  fair  average 
of  the  avoirdupois  density  of  the  Sir  Tunbelly  Clumsies  of 
the  middle  and  upper  classes.  By  the  term  "stun"  they 
may  possibly  intend  remotely  to  allude  to  the  inevitable  fate 
of  any  unfortunate  person  upon  whom  one  of  the  heavyocra- 
cy  might  chance  to  fall.  The  crushed  individual  would  most 
certainly  be  stunned,  though  the  ponderous  cause  of  the  dis 
aster  could  scarcely  be  called,  in  strict  accordance  with  the 
English  cant  phrase,  "a  stunner."  "A  stunner"  is  general 
ly  supposed  in  England  to  be  a  gentleman,  briskly  astound 
ing,  rather  than  personally  influential,  from  weighty  consider 
ations. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  an  Englishman  should  assume 
the  comfortable  rotundity  of  a  homemade  loaf  of  bread, 
when  it  is  remembered  that  few  hops  are  requisite  to  make 
the  latter  "rise,"  and  how  much  of  the  puffing  ingredient  the 
former  consumes  in  the  shape  of  malt  liquors.  In  1850  the 
crop  of  hops  in  England  reached  48,537,669  Ibs.,  which  are 
capable  of  producing  24,268,834  barrels  of  beer.  I  will 
take  the  liberty  of  stating,  as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  the  di 
mensions  of  a  single  brewery,  that  of  Perkins  &  Co.,  the 
famous  brewers  of  London.  This  vast  establishment  occu 
pies  some  twelve  acres  of  ground.  There  are  employed  be 
tween  450  and  500  men,  whose  burly  forms  and  crimson  and 
unctuous  visages  make  each  one  a  striking  impersonation  of 
John  Barleycorn.  There  are  160  of  those  huge  horses,  whose 
ponderous  proportions  and  great  height  seem  the  magic  re 
sult  of  a  mysterious  cross  between  a  giraife  and  hippopota- 


174  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

mus.  There  is  a  copper  for  steaming  the  malt  capable  of 
containing  400  barrels.  There  is  a  gigantic  vat  for  final  de 
posit  of  the  liquor  before  it  is  drawn  into  barrels,  whose 
wonderful  capacity  is  o500  barrels,  and  another  of  1500. 
The  quantity  of  malt  annually  consumed  is  127,000  quarters, 
which  will  produce  317.500  barrels  of  beer.  Quite  a  lively 
business,  considering  the  amount  of  fermentation  which  must 
take  place. 

There  is  no  one  of  our  Americanisms  at  which  Englishmen 
more  frequently  sneer,  than  the  application  of  the  name  of 
"  ca?'s"  to  Hailroad  conveyances.  They  use  the  term  "car 
riages."  Grammar  after  all  is  but  an  arrangement  of  rules, 
which  the  general  custom  of  the  most  intellectual  authorities 
has  declared  to  be  proper.  ,  A  Railroad  was  a  new  mode  of 
transport,  and  naturally  demanded  some  new  name  for  its 
means  of  conveyance.  Car  was  a  word  rarely  if  ever  used 
in  America,  though  it  designates  a  species  of  wagon  in  Eng 
land  ;  and  I  think  that  both  good  taste  and  good  sense 
would  give  the  preference  to  its  use,  in  connection  with  Rail 
roads,  rather  than  multiply  to  a  mystifying  extent  the  signi 
fication  of  the  word  carriage.  Both  cars  and  carriages  have 
wheels,  in  common  with  the  conveyances  for  passengers  at 
tached  to  locomotives — and  as  car  was  a  word  not  in  use 
with  us,  and  carriage  was  already  loaded  with  such  general 
and  various  significations,  I  think  that  reason  sustains  us  in 
the  adoption  of  the  former,  though  we  possessed  the  right 
to  assign,  with  perfect  propriety,  any  name  to  the  new  mode 
of  travelling,  which  general  custom  might  have  adopted. 
We  can  surely  manufacture  our  own  names,  however  many 
importations  we  arc  compelled  to  make  from  England.  But 
Englishmen  seem  to  insist  upon  denying  us  the  privilege  of 
travelling  in  "the  cars"  since  they  always  go  "by  rail." 
Although  "riding  on  a  rail"  is  a  mode  of  transport  some 
times  adopted  on  extraordinary  occasions  in  America;  yet 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  175 

its  not  being  generally  deemed  the  most  reputable  convey 
ance  in  the  world  is,  I  think,  a  sufficient  reason  for  the  adop 
tion  of  some  other  term  for  Railroad  travelling. 

Among  the  standing  heads  for  chapters,  under  which 
every  English  writer  feels  it  incumbent  on  him  to  grow 
wordy  and  indignant,  the  dangers  of  our  Steamboat  naviga 
tion  occupy  a  prominent  position.  All  the  naming  accounts 
of  the  accidents  occurring  on  our  Western  waters,  are 
eagerly  collected  by  the  touring  English  in  America,  and, 
after  being  properly  colored  to  suit  the  taste  of  the  market, 
they  make  up  an  important  chapter  for  the  forthcoming 
"  book,"  which  is  the  inevitable  result  of  an  Englishman's 
crossing  the  Atlantic.  The  best  evidence  of  England's  bit 
ter  hatred  of  America  is  her  insatiable  taste  for  slanderous 
productions  on  this  country.  The  same  complaints  are 
repeated — the  spitting — the  same  vulgarity — the  same  Lynch 
Law — and  Steamboat  catastrophes — are  reproduced  again 
and  again,  under  new  names  and  different  colored  binding, 
and  yet  the  demand  is  always  brisk  for  these  villainous  com 
pilations. 

Explosions  of  boilers — sinking  from  being  snagged — 
burnings  and  collisions,  are  all  joyously  heralded,  with  terri 
ble  minuteness,  by  these  English  commentators  on  America. 
The  frequency  of  such  occurrences  is  adduced  as  convincing 
proof  of  the  reckless  disregard  for  life,  and  utter  incapability 
of  all  grades  of  officials  in  America.  It  is  true,  that  Steam 
boat  accidents  are  extremely  rare  in  England,  for  their 
boasted  "  Terns"  would  scarcely  float  a  large-sized  yawl,  ex 
cept  when  it  is  floated,  as  high  as  London,  by  the  tide.  Such 
limited  aquatic  facilities  are  certainly  the  safest  protection 
against  the  frightful  accidents,  which  have  rendered  the 
Mississippi  so  terrible  to  Englishmen.  The  great  Father  of 
Waters  hurls  his  rushing  current  along  a  distance  of  2800 


176  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

miles,  whilst  the  Missouri,  with  its  junction  to  the  Missis 
sippi,  measures  4100  miles,  the  longest  river  in  the  world. 
But  the  famous  "  Terns,"  with  all  its  advantages  of  tide, 
locks,  and  dams,  creeps  but  233  miles  to  the  sea. 

But  although  there  exists  this  almost  impossibility 
against  Steamboat  accidents,  yet  never  a  week,  and  scarcely 
a  day  passes,  without  the  announcement  of  one  or  more 
serious  Railroad  disasters.  I  will  not  crowd  my  pages  with 
extracts  from  London  papers  in  support  of  what  I  say,  but 
I  appeal  to  the  habitual  readers  of  the  English  journals,  for 
the  truth  of  my  assertion.  I  have  observed  in  the  papers  of 
the  same  morning  notices  of  three  different  Railroad  casual 
ties.  But  Englishmen  boast  that  the  sufferers,  on  such  oc 
casions,  are  always  amply  remunerated  for  the  injuries  they 
may  have  sustained.  It  is  true,  that  an  accident  rarely  oc 
curs,  without  the  formality  of  a  lawsuit,  and  that  damages 
are  almost  universally  recovered  from  the  delinquent  com 
pany.  This  may  be  all  very  well,  after  the  mischief  is  done, 
but  in  most  countries  the  remedy  applied  would  be  thought 
to  come  rather  late.  Who  but  an  Englishman  could  be 
consoled  for  the  loss  of  a  near  relation,  by  the  receipt  of  a 
sum  of  money,  which  a  jury  had  decided  to  be  the  equivalent 
of  his  intrinsic  value  whilst  he  lived?  Who  but  an  Eng 
lishman  would  be  satisfied  to  compound  for  the  loss  of  a 
limb,  in  shillings  and  pence  ?  Money  appears  the  panacea 
for  every  ill  in  England.  It  is  applied  with  equal  effect  to 
bruised  affections,  and  broken  legs.  So  deliciously  docs  this 
universal  remedy  act  upon  every  patient,  that  the  lucky  in 
dividual  is  eagerly  heralded  in  the  newspapers,  as  a  fit  sub 
ject  for  congratulation,  who  can  ascribe  to  some  erratic  loco 
motive  a  demolished  parent,  or  pulverized  limb.  If  a  man 
should  be  unfortunate  in  his  domestic  relations,  or  receive  a 
horsewhipping — they  pay  him :  money  being  considered  a 
salve,  healing  alike  to  wounded  honor,  and  a  smarting  back. 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  177 

If  a  young  woman  loses  her  reputation  by  slander,  or  a 
husband  by  '*  breach  of  promise,"  they  hasten  to  pay  her  for 
the  loss  of  both  :  money  being  deemed,  in  England,  a  desir 
able  substitute  for  those  two  possessions,  which  are  usually 
supposed  to  be  absolutely  essential  to  the  happiness  of  the 
sex.  But  it  is  useless  to  multiply  examples.  It  is  a  well- 
approved  fact,  that  Englishmen  have  no  sorrows  that  money 
cannot  soothe. 

Englishmen  are  stanch  supporters  of  the  principle  that 
"  vulgarity  and  rudeness  "  are  the  necessary  consequences  of 
"  free  and  enlightened  Republicanism."  They  may  say 
what  they  like  of  the  barbarous  influence  of  mingling  all 
classes  in  America,  but  a  Republic  is  the  only  school  for 
rearing  gentlemen  among  the  people.  When  there  is  a 
marked  and  inexorable  distinction  of  classes,  those  beneath 
experience,  in  spite  of  themselves,  a  feeling  of  degradation, 
which  produces  a  thousand  little  meannesses,  inconsistent 
with  the  high-toned  feelings  of  a  gentleman.  But  where 
there  is  no  social  inequality,  Democracy  leaves  room  for  the 
expansion  of  those  principles,  which,  however  rough  a  man's 
exterior  may  be,  make  him  a  gentleman  in  feeling  and 
action.  A  proper  pride  is  the  first  element  of  true  gentility, 
and  where  there  is  no  prescribed  disability  in  the  lowest  to 
associate  with  the  highest,  this  pride  of  independence  pro 
duces  a  feeling  of  refinement,  a  regard  for  themselves,  which 
very  naturally  produces  a  regard  for  other  people.  There  is 
no  danger  of  any  brutal  manifestation  of  disrespect  towards 
those  whose  age,  whose  intellect,  or  whose  wealth  have  placed 
them  in  superior  positions.  A  man,  who  is  perfectly  assured 
of  the  equality  of  his  rights  with  the  highest,  experiences  no 
vulgar  ambition  to  make  an  unbecoming  display  of  them. 
The  self-respect  which  arises  from  his  position,  teaches  him 
that  rudeness  to  those  above  him  would  be  much  more  de- 
8* 


178  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

grading  to  him,  than  it  could  possibly  be  to  them.  A  man 
whose  finer  feelings  are  crushed  by  the  consciousness  of  in 
feriority  ;  who  is  compelled  to  submit  to  the  insolence  of 
purse-proud  superiors,  can  have  no  self-respect ;  and  in  his 
debasement  he  is  actuated  by  a  mean  desire  to  vent  upon 
those  beneath  him  the  insulting  injuries  he  has  himself 
received.  The  more  humbly  he  is  forced  to  cringe  to  those 
whom  the  laws  have  made  his  masters,  the  more  cruelly  will 
he  be  avenged  on  those  whom  fortune  has  placed  below 
him.  The  loss  of  independence,  which  makes  him  servile, 
makes  him  rude.  Servility  is  as  unbecoming  as  rudeness, 
in  a  gentleman.  But  so  long  as  the  present  legal  differences 
in  the  grades  of  society  are  maintained  in  England,  her 
entire  population  must  continue  both  obsequious  and  bru 
tal.  The  20,999,570  of  the  people  must  be  basely  submis 
sive  to  the  nobility,  and  the  430  titles  must  meanly  cringe 
to  the  crown. 

It  has  long  been  a  subject  of  mysterious  interest  to  me, 
to  ascertain  what  peculiar  qualifications  conferred  on  a  man 
in  England  the  title  of  gentleman.  Whether  a  certain 
amount  of  refinement,  of  fortune,  of  education,  or  noble  blood 
were  requisite,  I  never  could  satisfactorily  determine.  After 
much  laborious  research  in  books,  and  patient  comparison  of 
the  various  persons  to  whom  this  enigmatical  title  had  been  ap 
plied  by  Englishmen  themselves,  I  have  concluded  that  an 
English  gentleman  signifies  any  idle  individual,  who  has 
inherited  from  his  father  or  some  other  hard-working  ances 
tor,  fortune  sufficient  to  live  without  active  occupation.  To 
be  rich,  and  to  do  nothing,  constitute  an  Englishman's  some 
what  contracted  ideas  of  gentility. 

This  gentlemanly  idleness  of  the  so-called  aristocracy,  is 
an  unnatural  state  of  existence,  which  cannot  subsist  long 
without  injury  botli  to  the  individual  himself,  and  the  society 
in  which  he  lives.  Go  back  to  the  first  gentleman,  Adam  in 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  179 

the  garden.  The  experiment  of  idleness  was  satisfactorily 
tried  there,  and  was  found  impracticable.  Does  any  one  im 
agine  that  the  forbidden  fruit  would  ever  have  been  tasted, 
if  Adam  had  been  daily  occupied  in  tilling  the  earth,  and 
Eve,  like  a  good  housewife,  in  darning  fig-leaf  aprons  for  her 
husband  and  herself?  Never.  It  was  her  utter  idleness, 
which  afforded  the  serpent  an  opportunity  of  using  his  guile, 
it  was  idleness  which  left  room  for  his  cunning  suggestions 
to  grow  into  uncontrollable  curiosity.  Had  the  lady  mother 
of  mankind  been  actively  engaged  in  some  domestic  occupa 
tion,  she  would  have  had  no  time  to  listen  to  the  serpent's 
wiles,  much  less  to  try  afterwards  the  experiment  he  had 
suggested.  This  whole  system  of  gentility  is  faulty.  It  is 
founded  in  error,  and  can  never  come  to  good.  To  make 
idleness,  that  fruitful  source  of  every  evil,  the  test  of  aris 
tocracy,  and  yet  contend  that  this  unjust  system  is  not  ruin 
ous  to  the  nation  in  which  it  exists,  is  worse  than  folly.  The 
condition  of  England  is  the  happiest  commentary  upon  this 
absurd  despotism  of  fashion.  "  It  is  stated  in  the  London 
Times,  that,  upon  an  average,  one  person  out  of  twenty  of  this 
luxurious  metropolis  is  every  day  destitute  of  food  and  em 
ployment,  and  every  night  without  place  for  shelter  or  repose. 
It  is  a  lamentable  fact  that  in  this  town  of  London  alone, 
the  centre  and  core  of  British  civilization,  one  hundred  thou 
sand  persons  are  every  day  without  food,  save  it  be  the  pre 
carious  produce  of  a  passing  job,  or  crime." 

The  fortunate  individual  who  is  rich  enough  to  live  with 
out  labor  in  England,  might  be  a  blackguard,  a  fool,  or  a 
puppy,  or  all  three  at  once,  yet  he  would  nevertheless  be  a 
gentleman,  and  could  command,  accordingly,  the  too  ready 
deference  of  the  money-ridden  vassals  of  Great  Britain.  No 
refinement  of  manners,  or  cultivation  of  mind,  are  required 
to  sustain  his  pretensions  ;  no  elegant  accomplishments  are 
expected  of  him :  it  is  not  even  thought  necessary  that  he 


180  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

should  twirl  his  thumbs  gracefully  during  his  very  many  hours 
of  unemployed  leisure;  but  he  must  "  box  well,"  and  ':  ride 
boldly/'  he  must  be  able  to  "  thrash  the  waterman,"  and  to 
':  take  afive-barred  gate  "  at  top  speed.  Idleness  is  deemed  his 
chiefest  virtue,  and  ridiculous  self-conceit,  and  brutal  effron 
tery,  are  considered  the  most  unimpeachable  evidences  of  his 
gentility.  An  attorney  or  a  surgeon  are  considered  members 
of  honorable  professions :  a  banker  or  a  merchant  command 
high  respect  in  society,  but  it  would  be  deemed  a  shocking 
misapplication  of  terms,  to  speak  of  any  of  them  as  gen 
tlemen. 

How  very  different  are  our  ideas  in  America  of  a  gen 
tleman.  If  I  were  called  on  here  to  give  an  American  defi 
nition  of  a  gentleman,  I  should  say  that  he  was  a  man  easy, 
but  unobtrusive  in  his  manners,  who  never  did  any  thing  to 
offend  the  taste  of  the  most  refined,  or  wound  the  feelings  of 
the  most  sensitive  ;  and  who  possessed  withal  an  income,  suffi 
cient  to  dress  neatly,  and  indulge  the  simple  habits  of  a  man 
of  cultivation.  He  should  be  modest  without  bashfulness,  and 
firm,  without  an  affectation  of  pugnacity.  He  ought  never 
to  attempt  to  attract  attention  by  noise,  or  arrogance,  nor 
should  he  allow  any  one  to  treat  him  in  a  manner  which 
approached  indignity.  But  let  him  be  cool  and  civil  under 
all  circumstances.  He  should  never  be  betrayed  into  any 
thing  like  a  display  of  temper  ;  there  are  much  more  effec 
tual  modes  of  manifesting  spirit  than  in  bullying.  A  wo 
man  might  treat  him  in  a  manner  to  prevent  his  ever 
approaching  her  again,  and  a  man  might  insult  him  so  as  to 
make  it  necessary  to  call  him  to  an  account,  but  lie  ought 
never  to  gratify  either,  by  allowing  them  to  think  that  they 
were  capable  of  exciting  a  fooling  of  anger  in  his  breast.  He 
should  be  above  such  petty  manifestations  of  weakness,  as 
he  should  avoid  such  an  acknowledgment  to  them,  that  they 
were  of  sufficient  importance  to  disturb  his  equanimity 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  181 

Determination  is  stronger  when  cool,  as  the  blade  is  keener 
from  being  polished.  Above  all,  let  him  never  condescend 
to  bandy  words  with  a  woman.  Her  sex  should  be  her  protec 
tion  even  from  attacks  of  his  tongue.  It  is  much  more  to 
his  honor  to  maintain  a  dignified  silence  under  the  fiercest 
feminine  assaults,  than  to  elevate  a  shrewish  woman  into  an 
equality  with  himself,  by  replying  to  her  rudeness.  He 
ought  to  be  polite  to  her  as  long  as  he  is  in  her  presence, 
though  he  might  avoid  all  repetition  of  the  affront  for  the 
future.  He  ought  to  touch  his  hat  to  his  opponent,  with 
whom  he  was  about  to  engage  in  mortal  combat.  He  should 
be  much  more  punctilious  in  his  observance  of  etiquette 
with  those  whom  he  did  not  like,  than  with  his  friends. 
There  is  no  surer  way  of  keeping  a  man  at  a  distance,  than 
to  treat  him  with  studied  civility.  But  I  have  allowed  my 
self  to  say  much  more  than  I  intended  in  alluding  to  this 
subject.  The  great  animating  principle  of  genuine  gentility, 
is  a  delicate  regard  for  the  feelings  of  other  people.  Let  a 
man  remember  this,  and  preserve  his  own  self-respect,  and 
he  will  be  very  certain  never  to  do  any  thing  unworthy  of  a 
gentleman.  A  refined  perception  of  what  would  be  disagree 
able  to  his  neighbors,  will  always  prevent  his  being  either 
coarse  or  rude  in  his  manners ;  and  he  should  not  allow 
even  a  desire  to  appear  witty,  to  betray  him  into  a  forgetful- 
ness  of  the  feelings  of  others,  which  would  be  much  more  un 
becoming  to  him,  -than  it  could  possibly  be  cutting  to  them. 
Politeness  is  deemed  lessening  to  the  position  of  a  gentle 
man  in  England  ;  in  America  it  is  thought  his  proudest 
ornament.  Englishmen  say  that  we  use  "  sir  "  too  frequently 
in  addressing  our  equals — to  whom  should  we  use  it  if  not  to 
them  ?  The  Englishman  will  reply  to  the  civil  question  of 
a  comparative  stranger  with  rude  abruptness,  but  should  a 
nobleman  chance  to  address  him,  "  my  Lord,"  or  "  your 
Grace,"  not  only  thickly  garnishes  all  he  replies,  but  smooth- 


182  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

ly  rounds  off  the  end  of  every  sentence.  Their  excessive 
repetition  becomes  both  absurd  and  disgusting.  But  it  would 
be  thought  a  want  of  self-respect  in  him  to  introduce  '•  Sir  " 
once,  in  answer  to  a  man  whose  position  did  not  look  down 
upon  his  own.  Yet  the  English  declare  that  they  so  bela 
bor  the  nobility  with  their  titles,  because  it  is  polite. 
Their  civility  loses  its  rarest  charm  in  ceasing  to  be  volun 
tary  ;  and  their  politeness  becomes  servility  in  making  abject 
submission  to  a  superior.  Their  truckling  deference  to 
nobles  is*a  base  acknowledgment  of  inferiority,  and  not  that 
free,  high-toned  feeling,  which  produces  a  respect  for  the 
feelings  of  others  ;  nor  that  generous  affability  of  disposi 
tion  which  begets  the  desire  to  be  agreeable.  A  man, 
actuated  by  the  proper  feelings  of  a  gentleman,  would  be 
much  more  observant  of  his  conduct  towards  equals,  and  in 
feriors,  than  towards  those  whose  position  commanded  his 
respect ;  for  although  the  former  could  not  demand  or  even 
expect  from  him  politeness,  yet  it  is  due  to  himself,  if  not  to 
them,  to  treat  them  with  consideration  ; — although  he  might 
entertain  no  very  exalted  respect  for  them,  yet  his  own  self- 
respect  should  induce  him  to  extend  to  them  such  civilities 
as  he  could  not  omit  with  propriety.  Politeness  is  justly 
expected  from  his  position,  though  not  demanded  by  theirs. 
Many  persons  appear  to  think  that  a  Lord  must  be  a 
gentleman  because  he  has  nothing  else  to  do.  But  an  Eng 
lishman,  even  when  possessing  all  the  advantages  of  wealth 
in  idleness,  is  so  bundled  up  in  his  multifarious  wrappings  of 
selfishness  and  arrogance,  that  he  possesses  about  the  same 
faculties  for  being  gentlemanly  in  his  manners,  that  a  sud 
denly  resurrected  mummy  might  be  supposed  to  have  for 
being  sprightly  in  its  movements.  In  England  gentleman 
is  a  mere  title,  which  is  tacked  to  the  tail  end  of  a  list  of 
Dukes.  Lords.  Baronets,  &c.  It  is  not  considered  at  all  es 
sential  to  a  Duke  to  be  a  gentleman.  But  in  France,  where 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  185 

legal  distinctions  in  rank  are  also  acknowledged,  the  simple 
title  of  Gentleman,  which  a  man  must  win  for  himself,  is 
justly  considered  superior  to  all  hereditary  titles.  They  say 
Monsieur  le  President,  Monsieur  le  Prince.  The  first  title 
is  descriptive  of  the  man,  the  last  of  his  father. 

When  an  Englishman  conceives  it  to  be  advisable  to  do 
a  favor,  instead  of  making  it  acceptable,  he  always  succeeds 
in  accompanying  it  with  such  an  air  of  obliging  condescen 
sion,  as  to  render  it  extremely  offensive.  The  supercilious 
smile  on  his  lips  seems  to  say,  what  an  uncommonly  good 
fellow  I  am,  so  extensively  to  patronize  you.  His  anxiety 
always  appears  excessive  to  make  you  fully  aware  of  the 
painful  degree  of  self-debasement  his  pride  has  submitted  to 
in  doing  you  a  trifling  service.  And  as  he  is  not  often  guilty 
of  such  indiscretions,  he  resolves  to  impress  you  with  the  im 
portance  of  what  he  has  done,  and  the  overwhelming  amount 
of  gratitude  due  him  in  consequence.  An  Irishman  can 
more  gracefully  refuse  a  kindness  than  an  Englishman  do 
one.  The  latter  never  appears  so  disgusting  as  when  he 
attempts  to  be  especially  kind.  As  I  said  once  before,  in 
trying  to  seem  affable,  he  succeeds  in  being  condescending ; 
in  affecting  to  oblige,  he  becomes  insulting. 

I  have  met  with  some  Englishmen  who.  after  a  long  re 
sidence  in  India,  or  some  other  foreign  country,  presented 
but  few  of  those  national  peculiarities  which  render  them 
generally  so  forbidding.  And  I  have  known  others  in 
America  whom  you  would  never  suspect  of  being  English 
men — they  were  such  good  fellows.  But  these  had  been 
early  transplanted  from  England.  If  the  sound  oranges  be 
immediately  removed  from  a  barrel  in  which  decay  has  com 
menced,  they  may  be  saved ;  but  if  suffered  to  remain,  they 
are  all  soon  reduced  to  the  same  disgusting  state. 

The  transient  English  travelling  on  our  Western  boats, 
make  grievous  complaints  of  the  rude  and  vulgar  manners 


184  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

of  the  passengers,  when  people  of  all  classes — the  educated 
and  uneducated — the  wealthy  and  the  laboring — the  elegant 
and  the  awkward — are  mixed  indiscriminately  together. 
That  many  of  them  may  have  been  rough  in  their  appear 
ance,  and  unpolished  in  their  manners,  I  am  most  ready  to 
admit ;  but  that  they  made  any  display  of  indecent  rudeness 
I  do  not  believe.  These  hardy  pioneers  might  not  have  been 
so  meekly  submissive  as  our  stiff-necked  Britishers  were 
prepared  to  expect ;  but  if  they  were  at  all  rude  in  their 
manners,  it  must  have  been  when  these  distinguished  repre 
sentatives  of  the  old  country  were  inclined  to  assert  a  superi 
ority,  which  these  independent  Democrats  were  not  disposed 
to. acknowledge.  No  people  know  their  own  stations,  or  re 
spect  those  of  other  persons  more  carefully,  than  Americans  ; 
but  the  respect  which  superior  intellect  or  wealth  generally 
receives,  must  be  a  voluntary  offering,  not  a  demanded  right. 
The  moment  a  man  arrogates  to  himself  superiority  to  his 
fellows,  he  is  mortified  by  being  made  to  feel  that  we  are  all 
born  free  and  equal.  It  is  this  salutary  humiliation  of  arro 
gance  which  makes  Englishmen  so  bitterly  hostile  to  the 
"  brutal  mingling  of  all  classes  in  America." 

English  writers  on  America  are  eternally  descanting 
upon  the  deteriorating  effects  of  Democracy  upon  the  morals 
and  manners  of  a  people,  and  yet  they  betray  their  insincerity 
by  the  comparisons  they  arc  constantly  instituting  between 
this  country  and  their  own.  They  denounce  Democracy  as 
destructive  of  all  moral  and  intellectual  excellence,  and  yet 
they  appear  dissatisfied  that  our  worst  do  not  equal  their 
best.  On  some  Western  steamboat  they  are  thrown  into  a 
sociable  squad  of  cattle-drivers  and  horse-traders,  whose 
manners  are  not  elegantly  polished,  and  whose  persons  may 
be  redolent  of  other  perfumes  than  Lubin's ;  and  they  ex 
press  themselves  disappointed  because  these  rough  but  very 
good  fellows  do  not  possess  all  the  easy  presumption  of  their 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  185 

nobility.  They  rail  at  the  Republic,  and  yet  expect  it  to  do 
wonders.  They  are  fond  of  contrasting  England  and  Ame 
rica,  but  they  always  place  our  roughest  citizens  beside  their 
richest  nobles.  Indeed,  to  hear  an  Englishman  talk,  one 
would  very  naturally  conclude  that  the  nobility  embraced 
the  whole  nation,  and  London  the  entire  country  of  Great 
Britain.  In  discussing  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
English  people,  he  invariably  cites  what  my  Lord  what's-his- 
name  says,  or  His  Grace  of  what-d'ye-call-it,  does.  And 
people  in  the  largest  cities  of  the  provinces  and  remotest 
parts  of  the  kingdom,  in  alluding  to  London,  speak  of 
"going  to  town,"  just  as  a  man  living  in  the  outskirts  of  one 
of  our  villages  speaks  of  going  "  down  in  town,"  when  he 
proposes  a  walk  to  the  principal  business  street.  If  their 
430  individuals  of  title  really  do  monopolize  not  only  the 
virtues  and  accomplishments,  which  might  be  reasonably  ex 
pected  to  be  distributed  among  the  twenty-seven  millions  of 
people  of  Great  Britain,  but  those  of  the  830  millions  of  the 
universe,  it  would  be  extremely  unjust  to  compare  our  most 
refined  classes  with  a  circle  so  peculiarly  favored.  Accord 
ing  to  the*  British  standard  of  excellence — money — our 
wealthiest  citizens  are  very  far  inferior  to  their  rich  middle 
classes,  and  could  not  consequently  be  contrasted  even  with 
them,  without  injustice.  But  the  English  are  much  too 
cunning  to  be  just ;  they  will  not  exhibit  their  commercial 
and  agricultural  classes  in  opposition  to  ours,  though  even 
then  they  would  have  immensely  the  advantage  in  wealth. 
These  are  the  only  classes  of  society  in  the  two  countries 
between  which  there  exists  a  parallel.  According  to  their 
own  theory  all  classes  in  America  should  be  infinitely  in 
ferior  to  their  nobility.  We  have  no  hereditary  aristocracy, 
with  their  vast  advantages  of  wealth,  of  idleness,  and  legal 
superiority ;  but  our  merchants,  our  planters,  our  farmers, 
and  members  of  the  learned  professions  are  our  best ;  but 


180  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

these  are  always  compared  with  their  nobles,  instead  of  their 
corresponding  classes  in  England.  The  "  cits"  of  England 
have  always  been  regarded  with  scorn,  and  treated  with 
contempt.  They  were  the  fools  and  cuckolds  of  every  farce 
from  Wycherly  to  Garrick,  and  still  continue  the  bulls  for 
the  sharp  authors  and  titled  blockheads  who  aspire  to  be 
witty.  But  our  more  refined  classes  of  citizens  are  thought 
to  present  too  favorable  a  contrast  with  their  nobility,  and 
our  roughest  Western  pioneers  are  therefore  selected  as  a 
suitable  foil  to  aristocratic  excellence.  But  what  can  pro 
duce  so  extraordinary  a  difference  between  the  commercial 
and  agricultural  classes  of  the  two  countries,  if  it  be  not  the 
Republic  ?  I  have  made  the  suggestion,  and  leave  the  rest 
to  the  reflections  of  my  readers. 

It  is  surprising  how  difficult  it  is  to  discover  the  basis, 
on  which  rest  pretensions  so  ample  as  those  of  the  British 
aristocracy.  It  is  true  that  custom  numbers  all  the  nobility 
among  "  the  mighty  men  of  Israel."  Each  noble  Lord 
boasts  himself  vastly  superior  to  the  urititled  of  the  uni 
verse,  though  the  evidences  of  his  superiority  still  continue 
a  mystery.  Less  simple  than  Samson,  he  has  never  betrayed 
to  the  world  in  what  his  strength  really  consists.  He  stu 
diously  conceals  its  sources.  Probably  apprehending  the 
treachery  of  some  new  Delilah,  he  considers  it  safer  to  talk 
about,  than  to  display  his  immeasurable  superiority.  All  arc 
ready  to  admit  that  his  estates  are  much  more  extensive, 
and  his  income  much  ampler,  than  those  of  ordinary  indi 
viduals,  but  surely  he  cannot  found  his  pretensions  on  his 
fortune,  for  he  professes  heartily  to  despise  money,  and  never 
omits  an  opportunity  to  sneer  at  those  who  arc  toiling  to 
possess  it. 

When  we  consider  the  fact  that  they  possess  all  the  ad 
vantages  that  wealth,  uninterrupted  leisure,  and  the  super 
stitious  awe  of  rank  can  give,  it  is  strange  how  few  scions  of 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  187 

noble  families  have  in  the  last  two  hundred  years  occupied 
distinguished  positions.  And  if  we  except  Lord  Byron,  not 
a  single  hereditary  possessor  of  a  title  has  made,  during 
that  period,  a  name  that  will  live.  The  governn^ent  wisely 
leave  the  nobility  to  sport  the  broad  ribbons  of  the  different 
noble  orders,  and  to  sustain  the  arrogance  of  the  country, 
whilst  her  honor  is  protected,  and  her  battles  fought  by  the 
great  minds  that  spring  from  the  commons.  The  only  in 
stance  in  which  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  force  distin 
guished  rank  into  supplying  the  place  of  distinguished  abil 
ities,  the  Duke  of  York  committed  such  blunders,  as  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  in  the  Low  Countries,  as  to  be  court-mar 
tialed  for  misconduct.  When  a  Prince  of  the  blood  royal 
is  subjected  to  such  a  mark  of  the  nation's  disapprobation, 
his  incapacity  must  be  gross  indeed. 

The  world  had  a  beginning,  as  every  thing  in  it  must 
have.  The  basis  of  aristocracy  is  money.  It  is  useless  to 
attempt  to  conceal  it.  Money  founded,  and  money  sustains 
the  noble  families  of  Great  Britan.  James  I.  enjoys  the 
honor  of  establishing  a  basis  so  worthy  of  the  order.  The 
vilest  of  monarchs,  for  the  vilest  of  purposes,  erected  the 
stepping-stone,  by  which  low-born  opulence  is  wont  to  climb 
into  nobility. 

When  all  those  oft-tried  extortions  of  tonnage  and  pound 
age,  compulsory  loans,  and  miscalled  benevolences  had  been 
exhausted,  when  every  possible  expedient  to  raise  money  had 
been  resorted  to,  except  its  legal  appropriation  by  parlia 
ment,  James  I.  created  the  order  of  Baronets,  and  retailed 
the  titles  at  £1000  apiece.  Yet  this  despicable  tyrant, 
without  a  single  redeeming  quality,  this  King  without  dig 
nity,  and  pedant  without  sense,  this  unnatural  son  and 
cruel  father,  this  treacherous  friend  and  pusillanimous  foe, 
in  order  to  overturn  the  constitution  of  the  country,  and 
trample  upon  the  rights  of  his  subjects,  became  the  hucksterer 


188  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

of  these  new  means,  by  which  rich  parvenues  might  assume 
the  coveted  ermine  of  the  aristocracy.  To  evade  the  con 
stitutional  presence  of  parliament,  and  bid  defiance  to  the 
laws,  James  established  this  traffic.  And  for  filthy  lucre, 
paid  to  such  a  monarch,  in  such  a  cause,  a  large  majority  of 
the  founders  of  the  present  proud  nobility  of  England 
gained  their  baronetcy,  which  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  the  an 
techamber  of  aristocracy,  from  which  upstart  wealth  may 
peep,  on  tiptoe,  into  the  half-curtained  windows  of  fashion 
able  revels.  Those  who  will  observe  the  enormous  increase 
of  the  peerage  since  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  may  form  some 
idea  of  the  number  of  persons  who  compounded  with  James. 
It  is  not  surprising  that  the  nobility  should  be  so  fond  of 
tracing  back  their  genealogies.  An  origin  so  worthy  of 
their  tastes,  so  in  accordance  with  their  habits,  is  naturally 
regarded  with  fond  affection.  They  are  right,  piously  to 
hoard  the  pelf  to  which  they  owe  so  much.  With  James  I. 
as  an  example  for  conduct,  and  money  as  their  chief  object 
in  life,  they  will  probably  continue  to  be  worthy  of  their  il 
lustrious  origin. 

It  is  true  that  the  refinements  of  society  of  the  present 
day  would  be  outraged  by  the  audacity  of  James's  shame 
less  bargain  and  sale.  Modern  etiquette  has  changed  the 
form  of  proceeding,  but  the  principle  which  characterized  the 
transaction  then,  stamps  it  now.  Cash  is  still  the  pass 
word,  which  admits  any  enterprising  individual  into  those 
mysteriously  exclusive  circles,  which  are  professedly  guarded 
with  Masonic  watchfulness. 

But  greater  changes,  than  in  the  refinement  of  the  peo 
ple,  have  taken  place  in  England.  It  is  "  the  order,"  not 
the  King,  whose  coffers  now  require  replenishing.  Since  the 
secure  establishment  of  the  English  constitution,  servile  par 
liaments  have  always  been  too  zealous  in  filling  the  exchequer 
of  the  sovereign,  to  make  it  necessary  for  him  to  resort  to 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  189 

those  extraordinary  expedients,  alike  degrading  to  the  mon 
arch,  and  injurious  to  the  subject,  which  commenced  under 
Henry  VIII.  and  ended  with  Charles  I.  Both  his  public 
and  private  wants  being  thus  happily  provided  for,  it  is  not 
on  his  own  account,  but  to  pour  new  and  vigorous  blood  into 
the  exhausted  veins  of  "  the  order,"  that  the  sovereign  now 
graciously  admits  the  bloated  vulgarity  of  rich  snobs  within 
the  magic  circle  of  aristocracy.  Money  is  a  perishable  sort 
of  thing,  and  will  not  stick  eternally  to  noblemen's  fingers, 
however  convulsively  they  may  clutch  it.  But  money  is  the 
life-blood  of  the  aristocracy,  and  money  must  be  had  at 
every  sacrifice,  to  bolster  up  its  greatness.  Whenever  there 
fore  a  despised  citizen  becomes  rich  enough  to  make  his  wealth 
desirable,  or  his  opposition  feared,  the  Queen,  who  dotes  on 
the  order,  as  every  sovereign  ought,  ingeniously  discovers 
some  long-hidden  virtue,  which  suddenly  makes  him  worthy 
of  Knighthood.  From  that  happy  day  the  Cit  belongs 
soul,  body,  and  more  than  both,  purse — to  the  nobility. 
He  already  dreams  of  a  coronet,  and  looks  forward  with 
fond  expectation  to  the  intoxicating  period,  when  he  can 
speak  of  the  privileges  of  the  nobility  as  his  own. 

But  it  frequently  happens,  that  the  rare  virtues  and  dis 
tinguished  merits  of  well-fed  aldermen  are  so  securely  buried 
under  the  ample  folds  of  fat  acquired  in  green-turtle  indul 
gences  and  civic  potations,  as  to  escape  even  the  inquiring 
penetration  of  the  Queen.  Not  even  modesty  could  forbid, 
under  such  circumstances,  that  the  deserving  individual 
should  give  some  gentle  intimation  of  his  having  money 
enough  to  insure  him  the  possession  of  every  earthly  virtue. 
A  huge  donation  to  some  royal  charity — to  the  crystal  pal 
ace,  or  some  other  chimera  from  the  Prince  Consort's  brains, 
at  once  makes  the  Queen  sensible  of  his  hitherto  unappreci 
ated  excellence,  and  he  becomes  a  Baronet.  The  progress 
from  Baronet  to  Earl  is  easy  and  natural,  when  gold  paves 


190  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  way.  And  although  the  fortunate  aspirant  may  not  him. 
self  do  so,  yet  his  son  or  his  grandson  are  certain  to  enjoy 
the  ineffable  felicity  of  breathing  the  balmy  atmosphere  of 
those  elevated  regions,  where  both  money  and  trade  are  so 
heartily  despised. 

Mr.  Carlyle  has  particularly  designated  us  as  "  eighteen 
millions  of  the  greatest  bores  ever  seen  in  this  world."  I 
greatly  fear  that  his  retired  habifs  have  not  permitted  the 
distinguished  gentleman  a  very  extended  acquaintance  with 
his  well-fed  countrymen.  Had  he  been  more  general  in  his 
intimacies  at  home,  I  feel  assured  that  candor  would  have 
compelled  him,  in  defiance  of  his  known  courtesy  to  America, 
to  award  to  his  own  countrymen  a  pre-eminence  so  well 
earned,  and  universally  acknowledged. 

There  exists  a  ponderous  sympathy  between  the  minds 
and  persons  of  Englishmen,  which  renders  them  unrivalled 
as  "  bores."  Unwieldy  and  inert,  neither  is  much  addicted 
to  unnecessary  exertion.  They  infinitely  prefer  eating  to 
talking.  Indeed  I  may  say  that  they  are  opposed  to  conver 
sation  on  principle.  They  regard  even  a  limited  indulgence 
in  words  as  an  unjustifiable  interference  with  their  dinner, 
and  condemn  it  as  a  serious  interruption  to  digestion,  after 
dinner  is  over.  Conversation  is  something  therefore  to  be 
eschewed  by  all  sensible  people.  A  Briton  is  emphatically 
a  silent  animal.  But  we  commend  his  silence  since,  like  that 
of  the  ass,  it  relieves  us  from  the  terrors  of  his  bray.  He 
can,  however,  talk  upon  occasion,  but  woe  unto  him  whom  he 
deems  worthy  of  being  talked  to.  For  however  disinter 
ested,  or  even  complimentary,  the  intentions  of  the  innocent 
persecutor  may  be,  the  sufferings  of  his  victim  are  not  the 
less  acute.  Surely  the  English  must  imbibe  stupidity  with 
their  food.  Veal  and  lamb  must  certainly  possess  some 
chemical  affinity  for  their  oleaginous  brains,  which,  when 
thoroughly  established,  forms  a  sluggish  solution  that  must 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  191 

prove  an  opiate  for  any  mind  that  comes  under  its  influence. 
Their  liveliest  conversation  is  a  drowsy  compound  of  beef 
and  porter,  enlivened  by  oft-told  tales  of  England's  glory, 
and  stale  slanders  of  America.  Their  highest  appreciation 
of  fun  is  to  make  Ireland's  sufferings  the  subject  of  some 
senseless  jest.  The  peculiarities  of  the  bullock,  and  the 
sheep  have,  through  the  magnetic  influence  of  continued  ab 
sorption,  made  themselves  much  more  prominent  in  the  dis 
positions  of  the  people,  than  those  distinguishing  Anglo- 
Saxon  peculiarities,  of  which  we  hear  so  much,  and  know  so 
little.  They  have  not  become  woolly,  nor  do  they  univer 
sally  wear  horns,  but  the  nobility  are  eternally  bellowing 
forth  the  astounding  deeds  of  their  ancestors,  whilst  the 
muttonish  middle  classes  bleat  a  timorous  approval.  Such 
subjects  constitute  their  fund  of  amusing  small  talk,  their 
agreeable  conversational  recreation,  their  lively  hits  at  the 
passing  unimportant. 

But  interest  or  vanity  sometimes  makes  him  hold  forth 
in  more  serious  strains.  He  often  talks  as  "  Jack "  was 
wont  to  "  sing  " — "  for  his  supper."  It  is  an  established 
rule  of  his  life  never  to  omit  an  opportunity  of  feeding  at 
another's  expense,  and  the  remote  prospect  of  an  invitation 
to  dinner  will  make  him  bore  his  intended  host,  with  the  in 
tention  of  making  himself  agreeable,  by  a  rigmarole  of 
vapid  nonsense,  that  would  deafen  a  miller.  His  vanity, 
too,  will  prompt  him  to  great  efforts  to  impress  distinguished 
strangers  with  his  sparkling  entertaining  powers.  His 
topics  for  conversation  for  such  extraordinary  occasions  are 
hidden  and  deeply  buried,  but  if  once  you  reach  them,  like 
the  Artesian  wells,  they  are  inexhaustible.  If  he  conceives 
you  to  be  a  man  of  consideration,  he  will  dilate  on  steamers 
and  railroads,  in  voluminous  discourses,  possessing  all  the 
fatigue  and  ennui,  without  the  expedition  of  those  convey 
ances.  He  will  assail  you  with  prodigious  accumulations  of 


192  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

information  on  coals,  and  overwhelm  you  with  statistical 
tables  concerning  them,  as  dark  and  fathomless  as  their  own 
native  pits.  He  will  spin  you  tedious  yarns  about  Man 
chester  manufacturing,  as  endless  as  the  thread  of  fate.  He 
will  kindly  favor  you  with  an  elaborate  price-current  of 
hops  for  the  past  twenty  years,  which  shall  be  warranted 
destitute  of  all  the  sprightly  qualities  of  that  article.  And, 
after  having  put  you  comfortably  into  a  doze  by  his  learned 
disquisitions  on  trifles,  he  will  arouse  you  by  retailing  the 
kitchen  gossip  of  every  noble  family  in  the  kingdom,  which 
is  rather  enlivening,  as  a  pretty  considerable  dash  of  scandal 
gives  something  like  piquancy  even  to  his  dulness.  The 
English  are  undoubtedly  strong  believers  in  the  substantial. 
Their  minds,  their  persons,  and  their  conversation  are  all 
of  a  solidity  which  nearly  approaches  the  heavy.  But  they 
are  not  "  bores,"  for  Mr.  Carlyle,  a  man  of  decided  discrim 
ination,  has  never  discovered  them  to  be  so  ;  although  ill- 
natured  people  might  insinuate  that  his  opinion  was  formed 
upon  the  principle  which  induced  the  owl  to  believe  her 
nest-full  of  owlets  the  prettiest  lot  of  young  birds  in  the 
world. 

Mr.  Carlyle,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  his  nation,  com 
placently  boasts  of  the  acquirements  of  a  few  of  his  coun 
trymen,  and  raves  about  the  wonders  they  have  achieved. 
It  would  be  strange  indeed,  if  from  such  vast  pools  of  stag 
nant  stupidity,  some  bright  spirit  did  not  occasionally  arise, 
as  the  Jack-o'-lantern  springs  from  fetid  bogs.  It  should  be 
remembered  that  these  huge  puddles  have,  for  eighteen  cen 
turies,  been  in  a  state  of  progressive  preparation  for  such 
phenomena,  and  yet  the  world  has  been  dazzled  by  no  illu 
mination  of  Will-o'-the-wisps.  A  leading  spirit,  every  hun 
dred  years,  is  no  great  things,  even  for  lumbering  Britain. 
The  intervals  between  Chaucer,  Spenser,  Shakspeare.  Mil 
ton,  and  Byron,  arc  rather  long  for  England  to  sneer  at 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  193 

America,  because  she  has  not  yet  produced  their  equals. 
But  Great  Britain  possesses  the  happiest  faculty  of  making 
much  out  of  little.  The  nation  is  never  at  a  loss  for  the 
bluster  of  a  genuine  bully.  John  Bull's  course  towards  us 
has  always  been  that  of  an  overgrown,  lubberly  lout,  towards 
a  very  young  boy.  He  dares  not  measure  his  strength  with 
those  of  his  own  age,  but,  prompted  by  aspiring  cowardice, 
he  delights  to  assume  airs  of  superiority  in  derision  of  our 
youth,  and  to  boast  of  his  own  exploits  in  comparison  with 
our  inexperience.  But  when  people  recollect  what  we  have 
accomplished  in  our  short  national  existence  of  three-fourths 
of  a  century,  the  world  will  not  laugh  with,  but  at  the  Bri 
tish  bumpkin,  in  his  giggling  self-complacency. 

Mr.  Carlyle  suddenly  turns  upon  America,  and  taunting 
ly  demands,  "  what  great,  noble  thing,  that  one  can  worship 
or  loyally  admire,  has  yet  been  produced  there  ?"  I  am  free 
to  acknowledge,  that  the  activity  and  widespread  intelligence 
of  our  people  are  too  great,  to  produce  the  brilliant  phenom 
ena  alluded  to  above.  And  it  is  not  at  all  surprising  that 
their  natural  sprightliness  should  cause  them  to  be  consider 
ed  "  bores"  by  a  man  of  Mr.  Carlyle's  sedentary  habits  and 
phlegmatic  disposition.  It  is  true  that  we  support  no  mag 
nificent  Archbishops  at  $75.000  a  year  to  "  worship  ;"  nor  do 
we  annually  invest  $1,925,000,  in  order  to  have  a  Queen 
whom  we  may -'loyally  admire."  But  we  can  boast  that 
our  country  presents  to  the  assembled  world  23,000,000  of 
the  freest,  happiest,  and  most  enlightened  people  the  sun 
ever  shone  upon. 

But  Mr.  Carlyle  asserts  that  "  America  with  her  roast 
goose  and  apple  sauce  for  the  poorest  working  man,"  is  still 
"  not  much."  We  have  at  least  shown  ourselves  a  match  for 
Great  Britain  in  every  contest,  and,  according  to  the  evi 
dence  of  the  distinguished  essayist  himself,  we  have  every 
reason  to  feel  satisfied  with  our  position.  He  pompously 
9 


194  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

announces  that  ';  America's  battle  is  yet  to  fight,"  that  we 
have  done  nothing.  Is  stilling  the  rushing  currents  of 
rivers,  and  making  them  obedient  to  our  arks  of  steam 
nothing?  Is  it  nothing  to  tame  the  withering  lightning,  and 
lead  it  harmless  by  the  habitations  of  men  ?  Is  it  nothing 
to  annihilate  space,  and  whisper  with  our  antipodes  ?  "  If 
these  be  nothing,"  then  Fulton,  Franklin,  and  Morse  are 
nothing,  and  ;'  the  world  and  all  that's  in't  are  nothing." 
Let  Mr.  Carlyle  array  all  his  Heroes  of  History,  and  show 
the  world  another  Washington.  Where  will  he  find  more 
fervid  bursts  of  eloquence  than  our  Adams,  our  Henry, 
and  Randolph  have  startled  a  nation  with  ?  Where  will  he 
find  the  aims  of  history  writing  better  accomplished  than 
by  Prescott  and  Bancroft?  General  Jackson  taught  the 
British  at  New  Orleans  what  our  armies  could  accomplish. 
And  although  the  English  nation,  on  every  festive  occasion, 
may  shout  with  maudlin  glee,  that  "  Britannia  rules  the 
waves,"  yet  all  the  waters  of  all  the  oceans  will  not  wash  out 
the  records  that  Decatur,  Perry,  and  Stewart  have  made  in 
the  naval  history  of  the  world. 

The  English  are  eternally  alluding  to  our  national  vanity, 
and  disposition  to  exaggerated  boasting.  These  are  quali 
ties  which  England  appears  to  consider  exclusively  her  own. 
That  she  is  immeasurably  superior  to  all  the  nations  upon 
earth,  she  holds  to  be  a  corollary  which  no  one  would  dare  to 
dispute.  And  she  has  always  been  so  magnificently  grandi 
loquent  in  self-glorification,  that  she  deems  it  presumption 
in  any  nation  to  attempt  the  same  strains.  If  England 
really  be  what  she  boasts,  we  ought  to  be  excused  for  feel 
ing  some  little  national  pride ;  for  we  have  overcome  her  in 
every  contest — whether  by  sea  or  land,  whether  contending 
with  muskets  or  cannon,  yachts,  clippers,  or  steamers,  pa 
tent-lock  pickers,  or  reaping  machines,  we  have  always  been 
victorious.  But  her  supremacy  on  the  ocean  has  been  her 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  195 

chief  source  of  pride.  I  shall  not  be  invidious  in  enume 
rating  the  exploits  of  Paul  Jones,  nor  shall  I  be  unkind  in 
dwelling  upon  our  brilliant  naval  victories  during  the  war  of 
1812  ;  I  shall  base  our  claims  upon  the  peaceful  victories  of 
competition.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  allude  to  the  victo 
ry  gained  by  the  yacht  America ;  but  I  will  remind  my 
readers  that  we  have  the  fastest  time  ever  made  by  sailing 
vessels.  The  Witch  of  the  Wave,  an  American  clipper  of 
1400  tons,  made  the  voyage  from  China  to  England  in  90 
days,  the  fastest  on  record.  Her  greatest  run  in  one  day 
was  389  miles,  whilst  the  greatest  run  in  one  day  ever  re 
ported  by  an  English  ship  was  less  than  370  miles.  The 
Racer,  of  1 700  tons,  made  her  first  voyage  from  New-York 
to  Liverpool  in  the  unprecedented  time  of  14  days ;  but 
the  Washington  accomplished  the  same  voyage  in  13|  days. 
It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  allude  to  the  glorious  victory 
achieved  by  the  Collins  steamers  over  the  Cunard  line. 
John  Bull  is  not  much  given  to  acknowledge  himself  sur 
passed  in  any  thing ;  he  must  be  completely  whipped  before 
he  will  confess  it  himself.  As  an  evidence  of  how  badly  he 
feels  himself  beaten  I  give  the  following  extracts. 

ENGLISH  YACHTS  AND  AMERICAN  CLIPPERS. — Yesterday  evening  Mr. 
Scott  Russell  delivered  a  lecture  before  the  Royal  Institution  on  English 
Yachts  and  American  Clippers : — 

"England,  he  observed,  wrapped  up  in  her  prejudices,  had  been 
excelled  in  the  art  of  ship-building  by  the  Americans,  who  followed  in 
this  matter  common  sense  and  the  laws  of  nature  for  their  guides.  He, 
however,  believed  it  was  only  necessary  for  us  to  be  assured  of  our 
present  inferiority,  to  produce  a  stimulus  that  should  result  in  placing 
us  first  in  the  competition.  A  premium  under  the  old  British  law  of 
tonnage  had  been  held  out  to  the  construction  of  bad  ships,  and  oui 
yacht  clubs  adopting  this  law  had  increased  the  evU.  There  was  a 
time  when  speed  need  not  be  considered  a  necessary  quality  in  mer 
chant  ships,  which  were  held  to  be  good  in  proportion  to  the  amount 
of  cargo  they  would  stow  away — with  no  reference  to  speed — and  but 


196  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

little  to  safety.  Now,  however,  since  the  discovery  of  gold  at  the  an 
tipodes,  speed  was  more  than  ever  an  object,  and  therefore  under  the 
stimulus  thus  begotten,  the  lecturer  predicted  the  building  of  ships 
within  the  next  ten  years  very  fur  exceeding  in  size  and  speed  any  we 
had  already  seen.  Twenty  miles  an  hour,  he  believed,  would  be  not 
an  extraordinary  speed  for  the  new  race  of  vessels,  and  their  length 
might  amount  to  500  feet.  In  point  of  fact,  the  longer  a  ship,  the 
safer,  the  swifter,  the  better  was  she,  provided  only  her  materials  were 
strong  enough  to  withstand  the  increased  strain.  By  adopting  iron  in 
stead  of  wood  as  a  shipbuilding  material,  this  necessary  degree  of 
strength  might  be  secured." — Observer. 

And  the  following  from  the  Times : 

The  truth  must  be  told — the  British  steamships  have  been  beaten, 
and  the  most  rapid  passages  ever  achieved  between  the  Old  and  New 
World  have  been  accomplished  by  the  American  steamships.  None 
but  an  American  steamship  has  ever  yet  run  from  Liverpool  to  New- 
York  and  vice  versa  in  less  than  ten  days.  The  average  passage  of  the 
Asia  and  Africa  may,  perhaps,  nearly  equal  those  of  the  Pacific,  Baltic, 
and  Arctic  of  the  Collins  line ;  but  the  Americans  have  achieved  the 
positive  victory  in  speed,  their  steamers — the  Pacific,  Baltic  and 
Arctic — having  made  the  fleetest  voyages.  On  the  part  of  the  Ameri 
cans  the  contest  has  been  carried  on  at  vast  cost,  and  additional  grants 
from  Congress,  ostensibly  for  the  mail  service,  but  in  reality  from  the 
national  spirit  of  rivalry,  have  only  recently  been  obtained  to  prevent 
the  project  from  perishing  by  reason  of  an  enormous  inequality  between 
receipts  and  expenditures.  On  the  part  of  the  British,  while  heavy 
amounts  have  been  paid  by  the  exchequer,  and  a  large  profit  has  been 
made  by  the  contractors,  the  Messrs.  Cunard,  the  defeat  had  been 
accepted  only  to  renew  the  attempt  in  the  hope  and  expectation  of 
mature  and  eventual  success. 

A  great  change  lias  recently  occurred  in  the  tone  of  the 
daily  press  of  England  towards  America.  She  is  evidently 
waking  up  to  the  consciousness  of  who  we  really  are.  I  hope 
my  readers  will  bear  with  me  in  offering  some  extracts  from 
daily  papers  in  illustration  of  this  somewhat  mysterious 
change  in  the  style  of  addressing  America.  The  following 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  197 

are  from  the  Times,  with  their  dates  and  subjects  attached, 
about  the  period  principally  of  the  Boundary  question,  and 
the  McLeod  difficulty. 

"We  have  boundary  questions,  which,  it  is  too  manifest,  that  the 
North  American  republic  will  struggle  hard  to  convert  into  means  of 
our  injury  and  humiliation. — Times  .Leader  on  the  Ministry,  February 
24,  1840. 

The  enlightened  and  upright  portion  of  the  North  American  people 
do  not  form  the  ruling  power  therein  ;  the  supreme  power  is  in  the 
numerical  majority.  The  numerical  majority  of  the  United  States  are, 
we  apprehend,  and  the  impression  is  a  mournful  one,  among  the  least 
enlightened  and  the  least  conscientious  of  communities  calling  them 
selves  "  civilized." — Leader  on  Reduction  of  the  Navy,  March  7,  1840. 

We  are  bound  to  resist  this  overbearing  demand  of  the  United 
States,  and,  if  the  demand  be  maintained  on  their  part  vi  et  armis, 
England,  vi  et  armis,  must  repel  it. — Leader,  April  18,  1840. 

Save  only  when  that  government  had  placed  itself  in  an  attitude 
of  indirect,  though  obvious,  offence  towards  England,  by  totally  failing 
to  check,  and  scarcely  failing  to  encourage,  the  criminal  outrages  of 
large  bands  of  armed  villains  upon  the  provinces  of  the  Queen  of  Eng 
land,  into  which  they  carried  fire,  blood,  and  desolation. — Leader, 
April  23,  1840. 

The  conduct  of  the  people  of  Maine  has  proved  that  their  purpose 
is  to  establish  a  system  of  encroachment  in  all  directions;  to  push  us 
to  the  wall  wherever  they  meet  with  British  subjects,  or  can  find  them ; 
to  wring  from  us  first  one  specific  concession,  and  so  habituate  us  to 
the  practice  of  yielding,  that  whenever  they  begin  to  bully,  we  shall 
prepare  to  yield,  and,  at  last,  not  have  one  acre  of  ground  to  stand 
upon. — Leader,  April  27,  1840. 

Circumstances  have  been  stated,  which  justify  a  presumption  that 
the  report  of  Colonel  Mudge  and  his  colleague  is  to  be  relied  upon  by 
Lord  Palmerston,  as  one  of  the  main  vouchers,  in  the  nature  of  an 
apology,  for  concessions  of  British  right,  more  abject  and  injurious  than 
this  country  has  yet  been  sufficiently  humbled  to  suffer. — June  27 
1840. 


198  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Any  person  who  paid  attention  (and  who  has  not  ? )  to  the  clamors 
of  the  republican  newspapers,  must  have  been  persuaded,  had  he  not 
known  better,  that  the  citizens  of  the  State  of  Maine  were  a  set  of 
the  most  oppressed  and  ill-used  of  God's  creatures, — lambs  worried  by 
the  prowling  wolves  of  England, — turtle  doves  fluttered  in  their  nest, 
— stricken  and  sighing  sufferers  under  wanton  injury. — Leader  ou 
Boundary  Report,  July  31,  1840. 

For  a  specimen  of  solemn  gravity,  bordering  on  the  ludicrous,  a 
parallel  to  this  has  seldom  presented  itself: — "  How  men  pretending,  as 
it  is  to  be  presumed  these  do,  to  any  share  of  public  character,  could 
come  before  the  world  with  such  an  exhibition,  is  past  all  comprehen 
sion  except  their  own/' — Leader  on  Correspondence  between  Webster  and 
Biddle,  September  16,  1840. 

The  Oregon  Question  has  once  or  twice  already  been  alluded  to  by 
Mr.  Van  Buren  in  his  official  messages,  though  in  language  sleek  and  sly, 
so  that  in  fact  it  becomes  a  matter  of  serious  inquiry  whether  the  safer 
policy  might  riot  be  to  fight  like  men  for  all  our  rights  at  once,  than, 
after  a  dozen  pettifogging  disputes,  to  sacrifice  them  all  in  succession. — 
February  19,  1841. 

He  was  as  good  as  any  other  British  subject  for  a  peg  on  which  to 
hang  a  provocative  to  war,  and  plenty  of  conscientious  Yankees,  it 
would  appear,  were  at  hand  to  swear  his  personal  presence  on  board 
the  Caroline. — Our  relations  loith  France  and  America, — Mr.  McLeod, 
— February  ID,  1841. 

"What  will  be  the  course  of  the  British  Government?  Need  we  ask 
the  question?  Yes,  we  must;  although  it  be  one  which  the  country, 
if  not  the  ministers,  will  promptly  answer.  The  consequences  of  Mr. 
McLeod's  judicial  murder  must  be  War. 

The  attempt,  therefore,  to  shuffle  off  the  obligation  of  redress  for  a 
wrong  perpetrated  upon  Great  Britain,  in  the  person  of  her  subject, 
from  the  United  States  Government,  which  originally  claimed  jurisdic 
tion  over  the  whole  question,  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  State  of  New- 
York  alone,  is  adding  levity  and  ridicule  to  insult  and  oppression. — 
Leader, — McLcod, — March  5,  1841. 

A  document,  wnich  we  do  not  scruple  to  describe  as  the  most  viru 
lent,  unprincipled,  and  revolting,  that  has  ever  disgraced  the  records 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  199 

of  any  people,  hower  immersed  in  the  rudest  or  moat  corrupt  vice. — 
On  Report  of  Committee  on  Foreign  Affairs  to  the  House  of  Represen 
tatives,  March  9,  1841. 

As  far  as  the  American  people  have  had  time  to  degenerate  from 
their  British  origin  into  a  distinctive  national  character,  we  are  afraid 
that  that  character  consists,  for  the  most  part,  in  empty  pretension 
and  puff.  Having  began  their  republican  career  with  a  deep  tincture 
of  vanity,  occasioned  by  their  successful  struggle  for  independence,  and 
having  afterwards  enjoyed  considerable  mercantile  prosperity,  a?  the 
principal  cotton  growers  for  the  European  markets,  they  seem  to  have 
strutted  into  a  precocious  and  unnatural  self-importance,  as  if  their 
political  and  commercial  resources  had  attained  a  maturity,  which, 
under  the  guidance  of  democratic  infallibility,  rendered  every  chance 
of  miscarriage  an  inconceivable  thing. — Banks,  April  16,  1841. 

But  that  as  long  as  the  American  Government  find  that  we  may  be 
trifled  with,  with  impunity,  they  are  willing  to  gratify  the  passions  of 
the  populace,  by  anticipations  of  the  judicial  murder  of  one  of  the 
Queen  of  England's  officers:  If  by  any  fatal  mischance  that  monstrous 
act  should  ever  be  consummated,  the  horror  and  disgust  of  the  whole 
civilized  world  will  fall  as  heavily  on  the  statesman  by  whom  it  was 
tolerated,  as  on  the  savages  by  whom  it  was  committed. — McLeod,  Au 
gust  5,  1841. 

It  requires  we  fear  a  stronger  arm  than  that  of  the  existing  Federal 
Government  of  America,  to  control  the  arrogant,  unjust,  and  turbulent 
spirit  which  the  "pattern  democracy "  is  apt  to  carry  into  its  contro 
versies  and  negotiations  with  foreign  states.  The  Boundary  Question 
has  awakened  a  spirit  of  direct  hostility  to  England  on  the  Northern 
frontier,  the  emancipation  of  the  black  population  of  the  British 
colonies,  in  the  "West  Indies,  has  been  witnessed  with  feelings  of  rancor 
and  dread  by  the  slave  States  of  the  South.  In  private  life  the 
nefarious  abuse  of  British  capital,  too  confidingly  intrusted  to  a  people 
of  speculators,  has  led  the  Americans  to  get  up  a  cry  against  the  nation 
they  have  plundered. — On  Relations  between  England  and  America, 
August  18,  1841. 

But  in  spite  of  all  this  fume  and  sputter,  we  would  give  the  Ame- 
rians  any  favorable  odds  they  please  in  betting  on  the  security  of 
McLeod's  life.  We  know  the  infirmities  of  transatlantic  citizenship 


200  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

tolerably  well. 

temerity  they  will  make  use  of  in  a  case  like  this. 

With  such  a  Minister,  equally  temperate  and  uncompromising,  we 
cannot  doubt  that  if  actual  hostilities  be  providentially  averted,  the 
Americans  will  at  least  be  taught  a  lesson  which  in  future  will  lead 
them  to  a  truer  estimate  of  their  self  conceit  and  arrogance  than  they 
yet  appear  to  have  formed.  Pompous  bombast  in  this  quarter  of  the 
world  has  not  gone  o\it  of  fashion. — McLeod,  Oct.  12,  18-11. 

If  the  Americans  cannot  repress  their  insolent  aggressions  upon 
British  territory,  the  Queen  of  England  will  assuredly  do  it  for  them. 
If  a  systematic  series  of  outrages  must  needs  be  inflicted  on  the  British 
Crown,  Her  Majesty's  forces,  instead  of  abstaining  from  doing  the 
duties  of  the  Alburgh  magistracy,  will  in  all  probability  find  ways  and 
means  of  asserting  her  great  national  rights  under  the  walls  of  Xew- 
York  itself.  And  if  it  must  come  to  that,  God  send  us  a  good  deli 
verance. — Leader,  on  General  Affairs,  Oct.  18,  1841. 

Poor  Judge  Gridley, — one  can  scarcely  read  his  elaborate  summing 
up,  without  a  compassionate  smile ;  conceiving  that  he  had  to  deal  with 
the  most  important  cause  that  had  ever  agitated  the  world,  the  anxious 
functionary  seems  to  have  been  literally  bowed  down  to  the  dust  under 
the  weight  of  his  fancied  responsility.  The  quiet  and  humble  apart 
ment  he  set  in,  became,  in  his  excited  imagination,  "  the  solemn  temple 
of  Justice,"  the  presence  of  a  few  straggling  Canadians,  whom  curiosity 
had  attracted  to  the  spot,  was  felt  to  be  so  flattering  to  the  solemnity, 
that  the  judge  publicly  complimented  them  as  "  distinguished  actors  in 
the  scenes  of  blood  and  suffering,"  connected  with  the  suppression  of 

the  McKenzie  rebellion:  and  after  indulging  in  a  long  and 

wasteful  expenditure  of  profound  judicial  saws,  the  complacent  lumi 
nary  was  constrained,  at  last,  to  let  the  jury  retire. — McLeod's  Acquit 
tal,  Nov.  1,  1841. 

"We  have  our  laws,  and  it  is  mere  arrogant  impudence,  mere 
presuming  on  English  gullibility,  to  demand  of  us  to  govern  by  any 
other. — Detention  of  the  Brig  Creole,  March  21,  1842. 

A  generous  concession  to  a  generous  claimant  is  one  thing ;  to  invite 
Brother  Jonathan  to  help  himself  from  our  pockets  is  another:  we  are 
ready  to  be  liberal,  but  we  must  not  be  bullied  into  giving  half-a-crown 
to  a  known  swindler. — Leader,  Feb.  6,  1842. 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA,.  201 

Frenchmen  are  sometimes  impertinent,  Irishmen  impudent,  Welch- 
men  voluble,  Englishmen  blustering,  Scotchmen  cool ;  but  the  conjoint 
coolness,  blustering,  volubility,  impudence,  and  impertinence  of  a  true 
Yankee,  has  a  height,  and  depth,  and  breadth  about  it,  which  "flogs" 
each  of  these  nations,  in  their  most  characteristic  accomplishment. 

The  Pennsylvanian  farmer  or  merchant,  knows  that  his  creditors, 
grumble  as  they  may,  cannot  pocket  the  Canadas,  or  ship  off  the  rail 
roads.  He  puts  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  his  feet  on  the  chimney- 
piece,  hugs  himself  in  comfort  over  his  growing  income,  and  takes  care 
to  look  for  a  repudiating  representative,  in  the  State  Legislature. 

This  is,  was,  and  will  be  the  American  cry,  "give!  give!  give!" 
but  the  English  counter  cry  will  be  "pay!  pay!  pay!"  Before  you 
expect  us  to  entertain  a  single  argument  you  use — "pay  your  debts ;  " 
till  then  you  have  no  right  to  a  place  among  honest  nations.  Unless 
you  come  with  your  money  in  your  hand,  and  pay  down  upon  delivery, 
buy  not  at  all,  barter  not  at  all, — and  if  you  must  needs  be  negotiat 
ing,  negotiate  with  the  convicts  of  Botany  Bay. — Leader,  Nov.  14, 1843. 

That  such  views  as  these  should  be  current  among  the  people,  is, 
perhaps,  what  the  holders  of  Pennsylvanian  bonds  might  expect,  dis 
creditable  but  natural :  but  that  they  should  be  deliberately  promulgat 
ed  by  the  highest  authority  in  the  United  States,  in  his  most  solemn  of 
ficial  manifesto,  is  an  additional  and  unnecessary  dishonor,  arising,  as 
we  have  said,  from  the  practice  of  requiring  from  that  personage  an  an 
nual  palaver  in  extenso  for  the  satisfaction  of  an  unprincipled  though 
"free  and  enlightened"  public. — On  President' s Message,  Dec.  29,  1843, 

The  change  in  the  tone  of  the  Times  from  that  period, 
is  almost  startling  in  its  abruptness.  They  can  now  talk  of 
"  consideration  for  the  feelings  of  a  people  so  nearly  con 
nected  with  ourselves."  They  seemed  formerly  ignorant 
that  we  had  any  feelings  at  all — and  I  must  confess,  that 
considering  the  intimacy  of  the  connection,  they  have  been 
somewhat  tardy  in  making  the  discovery.  It  appears  that 
the  danger  of  the  fishery  question  plead  much  more  power 
fully  in  our  behalf  than  these  tenderly  chronicled  ties  of 
consanguinity.  The  rest  of  the  press  following  in  the  dis 
tance  the  bolder  strides  of  their  leader,  now  honor  us  with 


202  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  appellation  of  u  our  rivals  in  commerce  and  arms,"  and 
courteously  discourse  upon  the  sort  of  consideration  with 
which  "  so  powerful  a  nation "  should  be  treated.  The 
Times  can  now  pathetically  enlarge  upon  the  probable  in 
convenience  to  American  fishermen,  which  must  arise  from 
the  hasty  proceedings  of  the  Derby  administration,  and  in 
a  tone  of  chiding  remonstrance  to  the  government,  they  ob 
serve  : 

It  is  more  than  probable  that  American  fishermen  have  been  tres 
passing,  but  their  trespass  has  been  so  far  unheeded,  that  notice  of 
altered  resolutions  on  our  part  might  have  been  fairly  expected,  while 
the  true  interests  of  both  countries  are  so  plainly  dependent  on  good 
understanding  and  reciprocal  concessions,  that  the  very  last  resort 
should  have  been  to  any  proceeding  which  might  resemble  a  menace. 
Least  of  all  should  a  crisis  have  been  selected  for  the  experiment,  when 
the  preparations  of  the  fishermen  were  too  far  advanced  to  be  stopped, 
and  when  the  ordinary  good  sense  of  the  community  was  so  suspended 
by  constitutional  incidents  as  to  leave  it  at  the  control  of  even  an  Irish 
mob.  . 

It  appears  that  even  the  Times  can  be  extremely  mild 
and  conciliatory  in  its  tone  towards  America,  though  dis 
cussing  a  question  calculated  to  developeall  its  proneness  to 
vituperation.  What  could  be  gentler  than  the  following 
extract,  in  which  they  remonstrate  more  in  sorrow  than  anger 
with  the  Americans  for  their  somewhat  intemperate  pro 
ceedings.  "  The  sweet  south  "  would  scarcely  breathe  more 
softly  "  o'er  a  bank  of  violets,"  than  comes  the  bewailing 
censure  of  the  following : 

Long  usage,  previous  concessions,  and  even  arguments  of  a  broader 
and  more  general  kind,  suggest  that  the  question  should  be  treated  in 
a  liberal  and  conciliatory  spirit;  but  the  law  of  the  case,  to  which  the 
Americans  have  so  intemperately  appealed,  is  decidedly  against  them; 
and  while  we  regret  that  measures  calculated  to  irritate  a  sensitive 
nation  should  have  been  so  hastily  adopted,  we  are  constrained  to  ob- 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  203 

serve  that  their  own  proceedings  have  been  equally  precipitate,  and 
that  such  views  as  were  expressed  in  the  Senate  are  ill  adapted  to 
promote  a  settlement  of  the  dispute.  It  is  no  credit  to  either  State  that 
its  first  step  on  an  occasion  like  this  should  have  been  to  equip  war- 
steamers  for  action,  and  we  trust  that  the  awakening  sense  of  both 
countries  may  speedily  dispatch  the  affair  by  a  more  reasonable  appeal. 

To  speak  of  England  and  America  as  equals,  is  certainly 
a  novel  idea — and  actually  to  appeal  to  our  "  sense,"  as  if 
we  were  reasonable  people,  is  a  condescension  in  Mr.  Times, 
of  which  we  bowie-knife  barbarians  should  feel  properly 
sensible.  It  certainly  didn't  use  to  be  so. 

What  a  change  in  their  notions  of  our  importance  is 
developed  in  the  following  from  the  same  paper  : 

THE  DISASTROUS  WAR  AT  THE  CAPE. — While  all  eyes  are  intent  on 
the  threatening  aspect  of  the  storm  which  seems  about  to  break  upon 
us  from  the  north-west,  our  attention  is  for  the  moment  diverted  by 
one  of  the  periodical  accounts  of  the  tempest  which  has  been  so  long 
raging  in  the  south-east.  From  the  icy  shores  and  stormy  seas  of  New 
foundland  and  Nova  Scotia  we  are  abruptly  recalled  to  the  desert 
plains  and  burning  rocks  of  South  Africa.  Sandilli  takes  the  place  of 
Mr.  Webster,  and  the  capture  and  recapture  of  sheep  and  cattle  replace 
the  contest  which  is  going  on  for  the  possession  of  unconscious  cod  and 
mackerel. 

They  seem  suddenly  made  aware,  that  America  can  raise 
a  storm.  No  "  tempest  in  a  teapot,"  but  a  veritable  squall 
along  the  "  icy  banks  and  stormy  seas  of  Newfoundland  and 
Nova  Scotia,"  fierce  enough  to  make  "  Britannia  "  slightly 
apprehensive,  though  she  does  "rule  the  waves."  They 
seem  to  consider  us  of  too  much  importance  to  be  wholly 
despised — and  have  actually  elevated  us  to  the  rare  dis 
tinction  of  being  mentioned  in  the  same  category  with  the 
rebellious  Hottentots  and  savage  Caffres,  who  have  been 
summarily  thrashing  all  the  commanders-in-chief  the  govern 
ment  has  successively  sent  out  for  the  last  twelve  months. 


204  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

It  appears  from  the  following  extract,  that  even  the 
Times  has  concluded  that  our  just  ire  cannot  be  excited 
with  impunity — and  has  recently  become  convinced  that 
'"  it  cannot  be  the  part  of  sound  statesmanship  "  to  i:  arouse 
the  temper  "  of  our  people. 

If  we  have  rights,  which,  after  long  negligence,  we  now  choose  to 
enforce — well  and  good ;  but  it  at  least  behooves  us  to  afford  the  adverse 
party  fair  notice  of,  and  full  reason  for,  our  altered  proceedings.  Es 
pecially  this  behooves  us  when  dealing  with  the  United  States,  whose 
government  is  influenced,  whether  it  will  or  not,  by  every  prevalent 
temper  of  their  people.  To  arouse  the  temper  of  that  people  by  any 
unexpected  proceeding,  wearing  a  hostile  aspect,  cannot  be  the  part  of 
sound  statesmanship.  Unfortunately  our  "Conservative"  statesmen, 
in  dealing  with  the  Americans,  are  apt  to  miss  the  just  and  dignified 
medium,  between  truckling  and  bullying.  Where  Lord  Aberdeen  be 
trayed  alacrity  to  capitulate,  Lord  Malmesbury  indicates  velleities  to 
menace.  Mr.  Webster  communicates  to  the  Boston  Courier  the  copy 
of  a  dispatch  from  Mr.  Everett,  United  States  Minister  in  London  in 
1845,  transmitting  a  note  of  Lord  Aberdeen,  to  the  effect  that  the  Brit 
ish  government  had  come  to  the  determination  to  concede  to  American 
fishermen  the  right  of  pursuing  their  occupation  within  tlte  Bay  of  Fun- 
dy.  If  this  document  is  cited  accurately,  a  prettv  picture  is  presented 
of  that  school  of  statesmen  who,  seven  years  back,  made  our  American 
friends  a  gratuitous  present  of  those  very  rights  which  they  now,  all  of 
a  sudden,  send  vessels  of  war  to  vindicate. — Globe. 

How  anxious  they  now  are  to  claim  us  as  relations, 
whom  they  formerly  most  delighted  to  villify.  appears  from 
the  "  Globe  "  comments  : — 

Whatever  abruptness  there  has  appeared  in  the  manner  of  proceed 
ing  on  our  part,  no  substantial  ground  of  offence  has  been  given  bv  that 
proceeding  to  our  republican  kinsfolk.  It  can  be  no  substantial  ground 
of  offence  to  enforce  admitted  rights — rights  infringed  admittedly.  But 
it  is  convenient  to  infringe  them  I  It  is.  In  such  cases,  rights  must 
either  be  appropriated  by  robbery,  or  obtained  by  purchase. 

The  "  Republican  kinsfolk  "   are  growing  in  importance. 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  205 

and  consequently  in  the  intimacy  of  the  family  ties,  that 
they  have  been  something  less  than  a  century  in  recollecting. 
They  can  now  acknowledge  superior  enterprise  to  Ameri 
cans  in  something  at  least. 

We  are  induced  on  good  information  to  believe,  that  the  superior 
success  of  the  Americans  is  mainly  attributable  to  the  superior  method 
they  adopt  in  capturing  the  fish.  Whilst  the  operations  of  our  fisher 
men  are  limited  to  the  boat-shore  fishing,  they  are  engaged  in  the  bank 
and  deep-sea  fishing.  In  the  net  and  seine  fishing  they  are  likewise  in 
advance  of  our  fishermen.  The  superior  system  adopted  in  the  cod  and 
mackerel  fishery  by  the  Americans,  would  of  itself  account  for  the  dis 
parity  between  their  prosperous  voyages  and  the  scanty  catch  of  the 
Colonial  fishermen  of  those  descriptions  of  fish.  In  Sir  Charles  Ly ell's 
"Second  Visit  to  the  United  States,"  we  find  the  following  passage 
[vol.  II.,  p.  356],  which  affords  additional  illustration  of  the  like  sources 
of  success  as  those  above  indicated  in  Brother  Jonathan's  fishing  and 
other  enterprises.  Brother  Jonathan  "looks  alive,"  and  keeps  awake. 

It  seems  indubitable  that  there  is  •'  danger  "  in  disturb 
ing  the  amicable  relations  according  to  t:  the  Chronicle." 

But  in  addition  to  the  injury  which  his  selfish  and  unconstitutional 
course  is  inflicting  on  the  commercial  interests  of  the  community,  we 
have,  in  the  pending  dispute  on  the  subject  of  the  American  fisheries,  a 
still  more  striking  proof  of  the  mischief  and  danger  of  prolonging  the  pre 
sent  political  uncertainty.  In  the  first  place,  with  regard  to  the  fiscal  part 
of  the  question,  Sir  John  Pakington  has  taken  a  step  which  gravely  com 
promises  the  relations  between  this  country  and  our  American  colonies, 
and  which  is  in  direct  contravention  to  the  spirit  of  that  Free-trade  policy 
which  it  is  certain  that  the  new  Parliament  will  decidedly  maintain.  If 
the  legislature  had  been  sitting,  would  it  have  permitted  the  Colonial  Se 
cretary  to  sanction  the  Colonial  proposition  for  bounties  ?  And  if  it  would 
not^  is  it  not  plain  that  the  country  has  been  jockeyed,  against  its  delibe 
rate  will,  into  this  little  trick  of  Transatlantic  protection  ?  But  this  is  the 
least  important  aspect  of  the  affair.  As  regards  the  more  serious  question 
of  our  amicable  relations  with  the  United  States,  the  imminent  danger 
of  intrusting  so  delicate  a  negotiation  to  a  "  moribund  "  Government 
is  but  too  apparent. 


206  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

But    this   question   of   the  "  danger "    of  trifling   with 
America,  is  put  beyond  all  cavil  by  the  "  Times," 

We  are  informed  upon  the  authority  of  Ministerial  organ?,  that  the 
whole  question  has  now  been  virtually  settled  by  liberal  negotiation  ; 
and  so  easy  and  desirable  was  such  a  result,  that  we  can  scarcely  dirt- 
credit  the  report;  but  the  intelligence  of  Monday  announces  that 
American  cruisers  are  actually  on  their  way  to  the  fishing  grounds, 
and  no  limit  can  be  put  to  the  danger  of  a  policy  which  brings  the 
ships  of  two  such  nations  as  Great  Britain  and  the  States  into 
menacing,  if  not  hostile  presence. 

The  two  following  are  from  the  "  Chronicle." 

The  grave  misunderstanding  between  tin's  country  and  the  United 
States,  to  which  the  question  of  the  American  fisheries  has  given  rise 
— and  which  appears  to  be  daily  growing  more  serious — will  go  a  long 
way  to  dispel  any  amiable  prejudices  which  enthusiastic  persons  may 
entertain  in  favor  of  improvising  Secretai-ies  of  State.  Sir  John 
Pakington  and  Lord  Malrnesbury  have  contrived,  by  their  ignorance 
and  folty,  to  blunder  into  a  position  in  which  it  is  impossible  for  them 
either  to  advance  with  justice,  or  to  retreat  with  honor. 

Even  if  we  judge  the  conduct  of  ministers  from  their  own  view  of 
what  is  expedient,  they  might  at  least  have  known  that  the  Americans 
are  about  the  last  people  in  the  world  from  whom  any  thing  is  to  be 
obtained  by  bluster  and  bullying.  There  are  no  two  countries  in 
which  national  jealousies  take  fire  so  quickly,  or  rage  so  fiercely,  on 
questions  of  foreign  politics,  as  in  England  and  the  United  States.  In 
dealing  with  a  free  people  like  the  Americans,  it  is  above  all  things 
necessary  that,  before  a  claim  is  preferred — and,  much  more,  before 
any  attempt  is  made  to  enforce  it — its  exigency  and  validity  should  be 
clearly  ascertained  and  established.  It  appears,  however,  that  Lord 
Malmesbury  1ms  proceeded  to  the  extreme  measure  of  seizing  American 
vessels,  on  grounds  which  are  total lv  inadequate  to  justify  such  a  step. 
It  is  impossible  to  contemplate  without  painful  uneasiness  the  conse 
quences  of  so  rash  and  foolish  an  exploit. 

These  extracts  from  the   Chronicle  intimate    a    rather 
more  flattering  estimate  of  our  national   importance  than 


ENGLISH    WRITERS    ON    AMERICA.  207 

English  journals  were  wont  formerly  to  contain.  But  it 
would  be  the  height  of  injustice  not  to  allow  the  Times  to 
"  sum  up  "  on  this  subject.  Hear  him  and  wonder. 

LATE  DISPUTE  WITH  AMERICA. — The  Colonies  and  Protection. — By 
this  time  we  hope  our  dispute  with  the  United  States  of  America  is 
over,  and  we  trust  that  all  parties  will  return  without  delay  to  those 
amicable  feelings  and  friendly  relations  which  our  Government  has  so 
needlessly  disturbed.  It  is  not,  however,  of  the  obvious  and  glaring 
errors  of  the  Government  of  England,  or  the  wild  and  precipitate  pro 
ceedings  of  the  American  Legislature,  that  we  wish  now  to  speak. 
Our  desire  is  to  make  the  danger  we  have  just  escaped  the  subject  of 
a  few  practical  reflections,  which  we  submit  to  the  good  sense  of  the 
English  nation.  We  have  been  on  the  verge  of  a  war  with  a  nation 
which,  from  its  identity  in  race  and  language  with  ourselves,  would 
have  proved  a  truly  formidable  enemy — a  maritime  and  commercial 
people  who  would  have  met  us  with  our  own  arms,  on  our  own 
element,  and  visited  our  commerce  with  mischiefs  similar  to  those 
which  we  should  have  inflicted  upon  theirs.  So  closely  are  the  two 
countries  united,  that  every  injury  which  we  might  inflict  on  our 
enemy  would  have  been  almost  as  injurious  to  our  merchants  as  bom 
barding  our  own  towns,  or  sinking  our  own  ships.  And  yet  it  is  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that  with  this  people  we  were  on  the  very  verge 
of  war,  for,  had  we  persevered  in  carrying  out  with  a  high  hand,  by 
seizure  and  confiscation,  our  own  interpretation  of  the  treaty,  a  colli 
sion  with  the  American  Commodore  was  unavoidable ;  and  such  a 
collision  must  almost  necessarily  have  been  followed  by  a  formal  declara 
tion  of  hostilities.  Now,  what  is  the  question  which  has  so  nearly  led 
to  such  serious  results  ?  It  is  simply  whether  a  certain  quantity  of  the 
salt  fish  consumed  in  these  islands  shall  be  caught  by  citizens  of  the 
United  States  or  natives  of  our  own  colonies.  The  question  whether 
American  fishermen  shall  be  allowed  to  spread  their  nets  in  the  Bay 
of  Fundy  is  one  in  which  the  people  of  this  country  have  no  imagina 
ble  interest;  they  will  neither  be  richer  nor  poorer,  stronger  nor 
weaker,  more  admired  or  more  feared,  should  they  secure  the  monopoly 
of  fishing  in  these  northern  waters  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  sea-coast 
of  our  North  American  colonies. 

I  find  a  very  appropriate  termination  for  my  extracts  in 
the  Examiner. 


208  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

THE  RETREAT. — Wo  said  last  week  that  the  English  ministry  would 
have  to  beat  a  hasty  and  disgraceful  retreat  in  the  American  brawl. 
Already  it  has  done  so.  The  act  of  cowardice  has  followed  hard  on 
that  of  bluster  and  defiance,  and  the  Americans  remain  not  only 
masters  of  what  they  had,  but  gainers  of  considerably  more.  It  io 
announced  by  the  organs  of  the  ministry  that  the  matter  in  dispute  has 
been  amicably  arranged  between  Lord  Malmesbury  and  Mr.  Abbott 
Lawrence,  the  former  agreeing  to  throw  open  to  the  United  States  all 
the  British  fisheries  at  greater  distances  than  three  miles  from  our 
coasts,  and  the  latter  making  the  same  concession  to  England  of  the 
American  fisheries.  Thus  every  point  in  question  is  given  up  on  the 
English  side,  while  at  the  same  time,  by  what  the  Standard  calls  "  an 
arrangement  of  perfect  reciprocity,"  the  Americans  give  up  nothing  at 
all,  and  get  a  great  deal.  If  there  had  been  any  other  fisheries  worth 
naming  in  these  American  waters  except  those  off  our  own  coasts,  the 
brawl  could  never  have  arisen. 

I  shall  make  no  comments  on  the  miraculous  change  of 
tone  towards  America,  in  the  press,  or  rather  in  the  Times, 
which  is  a  synopsis  of  the  press,  from  1840  to  1852.  The 
extracts  I  have  made  at  the  two  periods  speak  for  themselves. 
I  will  simply  ask  my  readers  whether  they  believe  this  very 
perceptible  change  to  result  from  the  fact  of  England's 
having  more  interests  to  protect  now  than  then,  or  from  her 
having,  by  some  mysterious  process,  become  aware  that  we 
are  rather  more  powerful  than  she  imagined  when  she  talked 
blood  and  powder  about  the  Boundary  question  and  the 
McLeod  difficulty  ?  Was  it  the  sense  of  danger,  or  gentle 
"consideration"  for  our  i;  feelings,"  which  has  produced  so 
marvellous  a  contrast  in  the  style  of  addressing  us?  Was 
it  prudence  or  affection  which  dictated  the  change  ?  Have 
we  grown  so  much  better,  or  so  much  more  powerful  in  the 
opinion  of  the  English  press,  that  we  arc  now  treated  with 
something  like  the  respect  usually  extended  towards  other 
nations?  Has  ''  the  Times"  became  more  tolerant  of  a  nation 
of  swindlers,  or  has  policy  suggested  a  little  flattering  deceit  ? 
Again  I  say  the  extracts  speak  for  themselves. 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  209 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ENGLISH   MANNERS. 

IT  is  not  surprising  that  an  Englishman  should  be  awk 
ward,  and  reserved  in  his  manners.  In  his  apprehension 
of  addressing  some  one  above  or  below  him,  he  lives  like  a 
man  on  a  sharp  fence  between  a  mad  bull  and  biting  dog. 
If  he  rashly  ventures  down  on  one  side,  some  haughty  supe 
rior  may  contemptuously  toss  him ;  and  if  he  cautiously 
slides  off  on  the  other,  he  incurs  the  danger  of  being  pulled 
down  and  worried  by  an  inferior.  Either  catastrophe  would 
be  equally  terrible  in  its  results  to  him  ;  and  his  only  alter 
native  is  to  remain  mum,  and  bolt  upright.  How  could  an 
individual  under  such  circumstances  be  otherwise  than  con 
strained,  unnatural,  and  ill  at  ease. 

Such  is  his  life,  his  only  consolation  being  in  venting  his 
ill-humor  on  dependents.  He  delights  in  creating  a  sensation 
in  public  places  by  blustering  among  the  waiters.  He  is  fond 
of  displaying  his  breeding  by  ordering  unusual  or  impossible 
things.  Nothing  seems  to  afford  him  such  exquisite  enjoy 
ment  as  setting  a  whole  establishment  in  commotion.  It  is 
ludicrously  terrific  to  witness  the  emphatic  fierceness  with 
which  he  will  thump  the  table,  and  noisily  declare  his  deter 
mination  not  to  leave  it,  till  his  demands,  however  absurd  or 
unreasonable  they  may  be.  have  been  complied  with.  Such 
conduct  cannot  fail,  in  his  opinion,  to  inspire  all  beholders 
with  respect,  and  to  impress  them  with  high  notions  of  his 


2LO  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

aristocratic  rearing.  He  grumbles  on  principle,  and  finds 
fault  in  order  to  be  well  served.  He  makes  it  a  rule  never 
to  express  himself  satisfied  with  any  thing  that  is  done  for 
him.  He  is  afraid  to  appear  pleased.  He  laboriously  avoids 
manifesting  any  thing  like  enthusiasm  in  public  places  of 
amusement,  and  never  acknowledges  the  slightest  pleasure 
at  any  entertainment  however  sumptuous.  If  he  did,  peo 
ple  might  suppose  that  he  had  never  been  accustomed  to  any 
thing  better  ;  whilst  it  is  his  darling  wish  to  produce  the  im 
pression  that  he  was  "  born  so  high,"  that  nothing  gotten  up 
by  inferior  mortals  for  his  amusement  could  merit  his  appro 
bation.  His  tastes  are  too  refined,  his  habits  too  luxurious 
to  be  gratified  among  the  herd.  Content  is  plebeian,  and  ap 
plause  decidedly  vulgar.  A  peasant  can  feel  one,  "  the 
groundlings  "  do  the  other.  An  English  gentleman  should 
consequently  know  neither.  How  could  he  be  guilty  of 
such  injustice  to  his  caste,  as  to  appear  amused  by  what 
other  people  took  interest  in?  And  besides,  if  he  should  so 
far  forget  himself,  as  to  appear  contented  with  what  he  or 
dered  of  a  menial,  the  English  would  immediately  conclude 
that  he  was  not  much  accustomed  to  being  waited  on.  So 
after  all,  if  an  Englishman  was  not  morose  by  nature,  the 
trammels  of  the  society  in  which  he  lives  would  inevitably 
make  him  so.  Circumstances  compel  him  to  be  noisy,  blus 
tering,  and  bullying,  with  those  whose  services  his  money 
temporarily  commands  ;  whilst  it  is  equally  incumbent  on 
him  to  be  silent  and  forbidding  among  those  whose  position 
in  life  he  is  not  perfectly  well  assured  of.  It  would  be  as 
shocking  to  his  sense  of  his  own  importance  in  encouraging 
the  advances  of  others,  to  be  contaminated  by  familiar  in 
tercourse  with  an  individual  of  inferior  pretensions,  as  to 
be  snubbed  in  too  boldly  addressing  somebody,  whose  rank 
conferred  on  him  the  privilege  of  being  rude.  He  can  never 
approach  a  stranger  without  braving  this  double  danger  ; 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  211 

consequently  the  delicate  nerves  of  snobbishness  make  him 
keep  his  distance  and  hold  his  peace. 

During  my  wanderings  in  the  East,  I  became  acquainted 
at  Jerusalem  with  a  wealthy  English  banker,  whose  chief 
delight  was  to  boast  of  his  noble  connections,  and  aristocra 
tic  associations.  He  had  travelled  much,  though  with  no 
decided  advantage  to  a  naturally  contracted  and  violently 
prejudiced  mind.  He  was  far  from  being  either  intellectual 
or  well  informed ;  and  yet  he  was  an  extremely  entertaining 
companion,  from  the  unsuspecting  display  of  such  a  cata 
logue  of  absurdities,  as  is  rarely  possessed  even  by  an  Eng 
lishman.  Among  very  many  extraordinary  and  highly  amus 
ing  disclosures  he  was  daily  in  the  habit  of  making  to  us, 
with  regard  to  himself  and  his  country,  he  on  one  occasion 
alluded  to  the  inexorable  nature  of  the  laws  governing  fash 
ionable  circles  in  England.  He  informed  us  that  it  was 
destruction  to  a  man's  position  in  society  to  wander,  even 
inadvertently,  beyond  the  confines  of  his  particular  class ; 
and  in  illustration  of  his  remark,  related  a  little  adventure 
which  had  once  occurred  to  himself.  He  was  one  night  dur 
ing  the  fall  of  the  year  going  from  Dover  to  Ostend.  It 
was  bitterly  cold,  and  sleeting  in  that  driving-piercing  sort 
of  way,  only  observable  in  England  and  oft7  her  coasts. 
Scarcely  had  they  emerged  from  the  dock  when  they  disco 
vered  it  was  extremely  rough.  Our  banker  found  it  impos 
sible  to  remain  in  the  cabin  below,  which  was  soon  rendered 
noisome  by  the  number  of  seasick  passengers,  who  had  taken 
refuge  there  from  the  weather.  His  only  alternative  there 
fore  was  to  continue  on  deck,  exposed  to  the  pitiless  storm 
that  was  then  raging.  During  the  somewhat  melancholy  re 
flections  produced  by  his  situation,  for,  singularly  enough,  he 
happened  to  be  without  an  overcoat,  a  strange  gentleman  of 
remarkably  prepossessing  appearance  approached  him,  and 
discovering  his  forlorn  condition,  politely  begged  his  accept- 


212  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

ancc  of  a  heavy  coat  which  he  had  with  him,  in  addition  to 
the  one  he  himself  wore.  The  proffered  coat  was  joyfully 
accepted  by  our  shivering  acquaintance,  who  sought  in  vain 
for  words  sufficiently  to  thank  the  unknown  passenger  for  so 
unexpected  a  kindness.  So  agreeable  an  incident  very  na 
turally  led  them  into  conversation.  The  banker  was  charm 
ed  with  the  other.  He  discovered  that  in  addition  to  his 
unusually  graceful  manners,  he  was  a  man  of  decided  intel 
ligence  and  rare  information.  So  much  was  he  delighted 
with  his  new  friend,  that  they  spent  the  night  together  on 
deck,  conversing  on  a  multitude  of  different  subjects,  of  all 
which  the  stranger  possessed  the  same  familiar  knowledge. 
The  banker  was  as  much  impressed  by  his  appearance  and 
address,  as  he  was  charmed  by  the  very  extraordinary  pow 
ers  of  conversation  he  continued  to  display  during  the  whole 
voyage.  In  parting  with  him  on  the  pier  at  Ostend,  he 
warmly  acknowledged  his  indebtedness  to  his  kindness,  and 
expressed  a  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  his  farther  acquaint 
ance.  But  previous  to  his  making  some  effort  to  show  his 
appreciation  of  the  obligation  under  which  the  stranger  had 
placed  him,  his  caution  suggested  the  propriety  of  making 
some  inquiries  as  to  who  he  was,  as  he  might  possibly  com 
promise  himself  by  some  unworthy  association.  "  What," 
continued  he  in  his  relation  of  the  anecdote  to  us,  "  was  my 
consternation  in  discovering  that  he  was  a  rich  linen-draper, 
who  was  about  to  make  a  short  tour  on  the  continent.  The 
presence  of  such  a  man  I  could  never  acknowledge  even  by 
a  bow,  without  seriously  endangering  my  own  standing.  So 
I  determined  if  possible  to  shun  him,  not  wishing  to  be  the 
occasion  of  any  unnecessary  mortification  to  a  man  who  had 
been  polite  to  me.  But  the  fates  had  ordained  it  otherwise. 
What  was  my  horror  when,  that  very  morning,  I  met  him 
face  to  face  in  the  street.  What  was  I  to  do?  I  remember 
ed  I  had  a  position  in  society  to  maintain,  so  /  cut  him,  and 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  213 

returned  his  polite  bow  with  a  surprised  stare,  that  wag 
meant  to  inquire  what  insolent  fellow  presumed  to  bow  to 
me  without  an  introduction  ?  I  was  sorry  to  do  it,  for  I  must 
acknowledge  that  I  have  rarely  met  a  man  with  whose  man 
ners  and  conversation  I  felt  so  much  pleased  ;  but  his  occu 
pation  precluded  the  possibility  of  my  so  far  demeaning  my 
self,  as  to  acknowledge  that  such  a  person  had  had  it  in  his 
power  to  oblige  me.  Besides,  if  I  had  even  coldly  returned 
his  salutation,  he  might  on  some  future  occasion  have  had 
the  impertinence  to  bow  to  me  at  the  opera,  or  in  Regent- 
street,  which  would  have  ruined  me  with  all  my  West-end 
acquaintances.  The  only  course  left  me,  was  the  one  I  pur 
sued — to  cut  him  in  the  beginning.  It  very  probably  saved 
both  of  us  much  future  annoyance."  This  wholesale  shaver 
— this  man  of  flint,  who  preys  upon  the  necessities,  and 
lives  by  the  misfortunes  of  his  fellow  men,  felt  contaminated 
by  receiving  a  kindness  from  a  haberdasher,  because,  for 
sooth,  he  was  dignified  by  the  elephantine  title  of  Banker. 
What  opinion  must  we  entertain  of  the  mind  and  heart  of  a 
man,  who  could  unfeelingly  insult  another,  whose  bearing 
had  so  favorably  impressed  him,  simply  because  he  pursued 
an  occupation  less  fashionable,  'tis  true,  but  equally  as  re 
spectable  and  far  more  honest  than  his  own  1  What  esti 
mate  can  we  place  upon  the  refinement  of  the  society  which 
compels  its  victims  to  descend  to  low-bred  vulgarity  and 
brutal  rudeness  in  order  to  retain  in  it  their  positions  ?  A 
position  so  precarious,  as  to  be  endangered  by  the  simple 
acknowledgment  of  a  favor  to  the  humblest  man  who  was 
honest,  seems  to  me  to  be  scarcely  worth  having.  Had  there 
been  any  thing  peculiarly  repulsive  in  the  man's  appearance, 
or  obtrusive  in  his  manners, — had  the  banker  discovered 
upon  inquiry,  that  he  had  been  engaged  in  some  disreputable 
pursuit,  or  that  suspicions  however  vague  had  ever  been 
whispered  against  the  integrity  of  his  past  conduct,  he  might 


214  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

have  been  excusable  for  formally  expressing  his  thanks,  and 
afterwards  treating  him  with  sufficient  coldness  of  manner 
plainly  to  intimate  that  he  desired  no  greater  intimacy. 
But  when  he  himself  had  declared  the  stranger  to  be  a  most 
delightful  companion,  and  had  candidly  acknowledged  the 
decided  suffering  from  which  his  polite  offer  of  his  coat  had 
relieved  him,  his  conduct  was  a  barbarity  which  an  English 
man  only  could  perpetrate.  How  insecure  must  be  the 
basis  of  that  rank,  which  could  be  toppled  over  by  a  nod  of 
recognition  to  a  man  whose  only  offence  was  in  being  a  re 
tail  merchant.  What  contempt  must  we  feel  for  a  nation 
who  professes  to  despise  trade,  when  trade  made  England 
what  she  is.  How  completely  must  all  magnanimity  be  en 
veloped  in  the  fog  of  absurd  superstitions  about  rank,  when 
honest  industry  can  be  regarded  as  a  disgrace. 

It  would  be  folly  to  express  a  doubt  of  England's  wide 
spread  influence.  It  would  be  worse  than  prejudice  to  deny 
the  honor,  with  which  her  representatives  are  received  at  all 
foreign  courts.  Her  flag  is  known  and  respected  in  every  sea. 
Her  power  is  acknowledged,  and  her  resentment  feared  by 
every  nation  of  the  older  continents.  The  rights  of  her  hum 
blest  citizens  are  respected  in  the  remotest  countries— for  her 
subjects  bear  with  them  into  the  most  distant  climes  assurances 
of  her  protection.  She  has  always  redressed  the  injuries  done 
to  individuals,  as  outrages  to  herself.  The  affair  of  Don  Pa- 
cifico  and  the  Greek  government  is  too  recent  to  require  more 
than  a  passing  allusion.  I  was  in  Athens  during  the  embargo 
by  the  English  fleet.  I  saw  a  king  harassed — a  friendly  power 
threatened — and  the  whole  nation  distressed,  because  the 
Athenian  mob  had  been  pleased  incontinently  to  batter  Don 
Pacifico's  pet  warming-pan.  Yes,  that  immortal  Bay,  which 
had  witnessed  the  destruction  of  Xerxes'  thousand  ships,  I 
saw  desecrated  by  the  presence  of  a  hostile  fleet,  because  the 
ingenious  Don  considered  it  safest  to  throw  himself  upon  the 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  215 

protection  of  the  English  government,  on  the  authority  of 
an  antiquated  passport,  dated  some  twenty  or  thirty  year, 
back,  at  Gibraltar.  So  far  as  regarded  the  proof  of  Pacifico's 
citizenship,  the  passport  might  just  as  well  been  dated  in  the 
moon,  or  some  other  distant  planet.  But  England  showed 
to  the  world  that  a  man.  even  professing  to  be  an  English 
subject,  could  claim,  and  receive  her  protection.  Even  in 
the  last  few  months,  a  prime  minister  has  been  hooted  by 
all  classes  of  his  own  countrymen,  and  two  friendly  powers 
have  been  kept  in  hot  water,  because  young  Mr.  Mather  had 
been  maltreated  by  an  Austrian  officer,  in  Florence.  And 
although  redress  was  sought,  and  obtained,  yet  the  almost 
entire  press  of  the  country  united  in  reviling  the  imbecility 
of  Lord  Derby's  government,  in  not  insisting  upon  some  re 
tribution,  more  in  accordance  with  the  offence. 

The  civilized  world  has  reason  to  be  grateful  to  England 
for  the  promptness  with  which  she  has  always  punished  any 
nation,  that  dared  to  assail  a  citizen  of  hers.  This  influence 
is  felt  in  the  remotest  countries  of  the  East,  into  which  trav 
ellers  ever  penetrate.  1  have,  myself,  enjoyed  the  advan 
tages  of  it,  and  here  make  my  acknowledgments.  In  Turkey, 
Syria,  and  Egypt,  all  Franks  and  Howadjis  are  confounded 
with  Englishmen.  And  Germans,  Frenchmen,  and  Ameri 
cans,  profit  by  the  mistake.  The  summary  manner  in  which 
British  representatives  have  more  than  once  proceeded,  has 
taught  these  bigots  that  their  nation,  at  least,  must  be  sacred 
from  persecution  and  insult.  These  semi-barbarians  seem 
apprehensive,  that  the  English  fleets  will  come  stalking 
across  their  sandy  plains,  like  the  wooden  horse  up  to  the 
walls  of  Troy.  And  so  exaggerated  an  opinion  do  they  en 
tertain  of  England's  power,  that  the  curse  of  their  Prophet 
is  scarcely  more  dreaded  than  the  terrors  of  her  ire. 

Previous  to  the  conquest  of  Syria   by  Ibrahim  Pasha, 
the  heroic  son  of  Mehemet  Ali,  no  Christian  was  permitted 


216  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

to  enter  the  gates  of  Damascus  on  horseback.  All  Franks 
were  compelled  to  assume  the  most  abject  humility  in  the 
presence  of  a  native,  and  they  were  altogether  excluded  from 
certain  quarters  entirely  occupied  by  the  residences  of 
Turks.  When  Ibrahim  asserted  the  conqueror's  right  to 
the  direction  of  affairs,  he  very  greatly  alleviated  the  condition 
of  the  few  Christian  inhabitants  of  the  city,  and  decidedly 
diminished  the  annoyances  of  travellers,  All  these  absurd 
restrictions  were  abolished,  and  never  resumed,  although  the 
citizens  of  Damascus  still  continued  the  most  bigoted  of  the 
Turkish  dominions.  On  a  certain  occasion,  some  years  ago, 
an  English  traveller  was  curiously  peering  into  the  outer 
court  of  the  principal  mosque  in  Damascus.  He  did  not 
enter,  as  he  was  well  aware  of  the  insane  fury  of  the  Maho 
metans  against  any  Frank,  who  should  dare  to  desecrate  their 
fanes  by  his  presence.  But  the  bigoted  people  in  the  neigh 
borhood  determined  to  regard  his  inoffensive  conduct  as  a 
pollution  of  the  sacred  character  of  the  place,  and  immedi 
ately  commenced  an  assault  with  mud  and  stones,  which,  be 
coming  fiercer  every  minute,  must  have  proved  fatal,  had  not 
the  poor  tourist  fled  for  refuge  to  the  house  of  the  English 
Consul,  which  fortunately  happened  to  be  not  far  distant. 
The  Consul  at  once  demanded  satisfaction  for  so  flagrant  an 
outrage.  The  Pasha  was  apparently  most  active  in  his  in 
quiries,  but  professed  to  be  altogether  unable  to  discover  the 
perpetrators  of  the  insult.  The  Consul  promptly  demanded 
the  arrest  of  every  male  inhabitant  of  that  quarter  of  the 
city,  and  insisted  upon  subjecting  them  all  to  the  punish 
ment  that  some  of  them  had  so  richly  merited.  The  Pasha 
demurred,  but  finally  he  attempted  a  compromise,  by  pro 
posing  that  the  punishment  should  be  inflicted  in  private. 
But  the  Consul  would  listen  to  no  such  proposition  ;  and 
England  being  a  name  of  fear,  the  Pasha  was  compelled  to 
submit,  and  some  two  or  three  hundred  of  these  bigots  were 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  217 

bastinadoed  by  a  detachment  of  soldiers  in  the  Public 
Square.  The  example  of  several  hundred  delinquents  un 
dergoing  this  fearful  punishment  at  the  same  time,  was  not 
soon  to  be  forgotten  by  the  Damascenes ;  and  England, 
and  Europeans,  have  been  respected  highly  ever  since. 
The  proceeding  must  seem  harsh  and  unjust  to  us,  but  it 
was  altogether  in  accordance  with  Oriental  notions  of  jus 
tice,  which  makes  whole  sections  of  the  country  responsible 
for  the  crimes  committed  in  their  boundaries.  The  appre 
hension  of  a  general  punishment  makes  of  all  the  inhab 
itants  a  vigilant  police,  for  the  detection  of  thieves  and 
murderers.  Some  such  act  of  severity  too,  was  essentially 
necessary  to  impress  these  zealots  with  becoming  ideas  of 
the  inviolability  of  the  persons  of  the  Franks. 

Nineteen  hundred  years  ago  Caesar  found  Britain  the 
puny  possession  of  savages — and  the  Romans  left  them  more 
civilized,  'tis  true,  but  still,  unable  to  defend  themselves 
from  the  attacks  of  their  more  powerful  neighbors  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Tweed.  From  an  origin  so  humble,  she 
has  risen  to  be  the  most  powerful  nation  on  the  globe. 
Once  an  inconsiderable  island,  with  an  area  about  equal  to 
our  State  of  Missouri,  her  colors  now  float  from  the  citadels 
of  44  colonies,  scattered  over  the  known  world,  besides 
her  vast  possessions  in  India.  Her  rule  is  acknowledged  by 
nearly  200.000.000  of  people.  She  sustains  a  standing  army 
of  100.000  men,  and  a  navy  of  198  ships  in  commission,  with 
33,759  seamen  and  marines.  Her  merchant  service  is  esti 
mated  at  4,144,115  tons,  and  she  sustains  a  vast  national 
debt,  whose  interest  alone  annually  amounts  to  $141,269,160. 
For  a  nation,  who  from  such  a  beginning  has  produced  such 
results,  I  can  but  feel  an  exalted  admiration.  But  my  con 
tempt  surpasses  my  admiration,  when  I  remember  that  they 
are  ashamed  of  what  has  made  them  great.  Instead  of 
erecting  statues  to  commerce  in  every  public  square — instead 
10 


218  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

of  placing  tablets  at  the  corners  of  all  the  principal  thorough 
fares,  expressive  of  the  nation's  gratitude  to  trade,  they  piti 
fully  profess  to  despise  those  engaged  in  commercial  pur 
suits.  What  were  they  till  commerce  lent  her  helping  hand  ? 
Alternately  the  defenceless  prey  of  Romans.  Picts  and 
Scots,  Saxons,  Danes,  and  Normans,  England  was  only 
known  among  nations,  as  the  convenient  conquest  of  any 
marauding  horde  of  barbarians,  whose  own  possessions  were 
too  narrow,  or  too  poor  to  content  them.  Commerce  first 
taught  them  the  art  of  self-defence,  and  gave  them  strength 
to  maintain  it.  Commerce  brought  them  wealth.  Com 
merce  made  them  powerful,  and  ministered  to  their  glory. 
Yet  in  their  degradation,  they  have  branded  commerce  as 
unworthy  to  associate  with  the  descendants  of  their  Norman 
enslavers.  The  poverty  of  their  language  never  appears  so 
lamentable  as  when  we  seek  for  expletives  worthy  of  such 
meanness.  What  shall  we  call  such  conduct  ?  'Tis  little 
ness  in  Titan  mould ! 

A  genuine  Englishman  delights  in  rendering  himself 
conspicuous  by  the  multitude  of  his  wants.  If  on  board  a 
steamer,  where  the  number  of  servants  is  necessarily  limited, 
he  will  send  one  waiter  for  roast  beef,  another  for  a  bottle 
of  porter — will  order  a  third,  as  he  approaches  the  gentle 
man  sitting  next  him,  who  has  had  nothing  to  cat,  to  hand 
him  the  radishes,  and  then  complains  to  the  head  steward 
that  he  can  get  nobody  to  wait  on  him.  In  the  meanwhile, 
he  helps  himself  successively  to  everything  he  can  reach,  by 
sticking  his  elbows  into  other  people's  faces,  and  pronounces 
all  he  tastes  unbearable.  II is  beef  arrives,  which  he  eyes 
Hcornfully.  and  with  upturned  nose  pushes  off  from  him.  He 
once  more  bawls  for  the  head  steward,  and  sarcastically  asks 
to  be  informed  what  he  calls  that  on  his  plate.  "  Roast 
beef,  I  think,  sir."  -Roast  beef,  is  it?  Well,  I  should 
say  that,  whatever  it  may  be.  it  is  not  fit  to  be  put 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  219 

into  a  gentleman's  mouth."  He  then  continues  confiden 
tially  to  announce  to  the  whole  table — whilst  professedly 
addressing  the  steward— that  the  cook  does  not  understand 
his  business,  that  the  carvers  do  not  know  how  to  carve,  and 
that  he  has  found  nothing  since  he  has  been  on  board  that 
he  could  eat ;  although  he  has  been  daily  in  the  habit  of 
employing  two-thirds  of  all  the  servants  within  call,  and 
devouring  every  thing  he  could  lay  his  hands  on.  The  eager 
haste,  amounting  almost  to  a  scramble,  with  which  an  Eng 
lishman  seeks  to  have  himself  helped  before  everybody  else, 
appears  to  me  strangely  unbecoming  in  a  gentleman, — espe 
cially  in  situations  where  the  wants  of  all  are  certain  to  be 
attended  to,  with  the  exercise  of  a  slight  degree  of  patience. 
But  he  seems  to  imagine  there  is  distinction  in  being  first 
served,  even  when  he  is  compelled  to  resort  to  unseemly 
haste  to  secure  the  doubtful  honor.  He  considers  selfish 
ness  knowing,  and  a  total  disregard  of  the  comfort  of  other 
people  as  eminently  indicative  of  an  aristocratic  turn  of 
mind.  He  is  nervously  apprehensive  of  showing  the  slight 
est  attention  even  to  a  lady  at  table,  such,  for  instance,  as 
passing  her  the  salt  or  filling  her  wine-glass.  He  is  haunted 
by  the  spectral  fear  that  somebody  might  construe  such  an 
encroachment  upon  the  duties  of  the  waiter  into  evidence  of 
his  having  emerged  from  some  obscure  position.  Such  scru 
pulous  attention  to  the  preservation  of  his  rank  would  natural 
ly  imply  the  consciousness  of  being  in  a  new  position,  of  which 
he  was  not  altogether  secure.  What  man  among  us,  really 
entitled  to  the  consideration  of  a  gentleman,  would  be  agitated 
by  such  absurd  apprehensions.  A  man,  really  certain  of  his 
position  in  society,  would  scarcely  fear  a  sacrifice  of  it  by 
so  simple  an  act  of  politeness.  An  Englishman  is  always 
excessively  anxious  to  have  his  seat  near  the  head  even  of  a 
public  table,  as  in  England  the  rank  of  the  guests  is  deter 
mined  by  the  arrangement  of  their  seats.  But  it  seems  to 


220  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

me  that  true  nobility  would  confer  honor  on  the  place — not 
borrow  honor  from  it.  Whatever  its  position  at  table  might 
be,  there,  it  appears  to  me,  would  the  seat  of  distinction 
always  be.  And  when  a  vulgarian  does  succeed  in  rudely 
elbowing  his  way  to  the  head  of  the  table,  the  mere  fact  of 
his  being  there  could  scarcely  impose  him  even  on  English 
men  as  a  gentleman. 

In  ordering  his  wine,  he  always  pronounces  the  name  of 
the  brand  in  an  unnecessarily  loud  voice,  that  the  whole  ta 
ble  may  be  made  aware  of  "  what  an  extravagant  dog  it  is;" 
but  he  at  the  same  time  takes  good  care  to  add  in  an  under 
tone  to  the  waiter,  "«  half-bottle,  mind  ye."  He  is  pecu 
liarly  knowing  in  all  the  varieties  of  wines,  especially  after 
having  examined  the  brand  on  the  cork.  He  first  sternly 
regards  the  waiter  who  has  just  filled  his  order,  and  then 
proceeds  minutely  to  inspect  the  bottle,  with  a  sapient  wag 
of  the  head,  which  plainly  indicates  that  he  suspects  some 
trickery,  though  it  is  altogether  useless  to  ';  try  it  on  so  old 
a  stager"  as  himself.  He  never  appears  to  think  of  tasting 
the  wine  to  ascertain  its  quality,  and  seems  altogether  ob 
livious  that  new  wine  is  sometimes  put  into  old  bottles. 
When  satisfied  as  to  the  identity  of  the  brand  and  bottle, 
he  smacks  his  lips  with  affected  gusto,  and  never  fails  to 
remark  for  the  edification  of  the  company  generally,  that  he 
is  just  then  engaged  in  drinking  the  very  best  wine  ever 
exported.  What  a  lucky  chap  it  is,  not  only  to  knov^  but 
to  be  able  to  order  the  very  best  wine  that  is  exported.  He 
is  never  so  happy  as  when  descanting  upon  the  rival  merits 
of  high-priced  wines.  He  professes  to  be  intensely  inter 
ested  in  the  dates  of  the  different  vintages,  and  uncommonly 
well  posted  up  on  the  yield  of  the  various  chateaux.  He 
will  order  some  French  dish  among  the  entries,  and  pro 
nounce  it  in  such  a  manner  that  nobody  can  understand  him. 
He  will  have  all  the  servants  on  board,  and  both  stewards, 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  221 

in  confusion,  running  to  him  with  the  different  side  dishes, 
till  he  has  succeeded  in  collecting  them  all  in  stately  array 
before  him,  when  he  finds  himself  in  the  mortifying  predica 
ment  of  not  knowing  wha't  he  wants  himself.  He,  however, 
flies  into  a  passion,  abuses  the  servants,  "  talks  sharp"  to 
the  steward,  and  seems  proud  of  the  staring  attention  he 
attracts.  He  is  marvellously  discriminating  in  cheeses,  and 
particularly  nice  about  tea.  It  is  his  ordinary  custom  to 
kick  up  a  daily  rumpus  at  the  table  because  the  waiters  will 
persist  in  confounding  Wiltshire  with  Stilton,  the  latter  of 
which  he  always  prefers,  and  usually  ends  the  uproar  by 
having  all  the  cheeses  on  board,  English,  Dutch  and  Ameri 
can,  passed  in  grand  review  before  him.  He  travels  with  his 
own  private  tea-caddy  of  Russian  tea,  which  he  orders  forth 
every  morning  at  breakfast  with  an  imposing  loftiness  of  man 
ner  one  might  ascribe  to  his  tea-drinking  Highness,  the  Em 
peror  of  China.  Whilst  pouring  on  the  hot  water,  which  he 
always  does  himself,  to  avoid  the  possibility  of  tricks  with 
his  precious  Russia,  he  sympathizingly  wonders  how  human 
beings  can  endure  the  dishwater  stuff  with  which  they 
drench  the  rest  of  the  passengers.  As  an  act  of  Oriental 
condescension,  he  will  occasionally  invite  some  peculiarly 
favored  individual  to  come  sit  beside  him,  and  imbibe  honor 
and  inspiration  from  his  squat  black  teapot.  He  will  in 
quire  en  passant,  if  it  is  a  regulation  of  this  particular  ship 
never  to  change  the  napkins  on  the  dinner-table.  He  is 
eternally  fussing  about  the  number  of  towels  furnished  in  his 
room,  and  invariably  appropriates,  in  addition  to  his  own, 
those  intended  for  his  room-mate.  He  appears  impressed 
with  the  notion  that  it  is  his  bounden  duty  to  busy  himself 
about  the  general  management  of  the  vessel.  He  is  constant 
ly  reporting  delinquent  servants  to  the  head  steward,  and  is 
apparently  the  only  person  among  a  hundred  and  fifty  passen 
gers  who  never  can  have  any  thing  done  for  him.  Of  course,  a 


222  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

gentleman  who  requires  so  much  waiting  on,  and  makes 
such  a  noise,  must  necessarily  be  an  individual  of  distinction 
and  importance,  and  he  impresses  the  English  flunkies  and 
the  English  waiters  accordingly. — though  the  disgust  he 
inspires  is  almost  universal  among  the  American  passengers. 
He  will  volunteer  a  stupid  song,  and  sing  it  badly,  and  tells 
long  stories,  at  which  nobody  laughs  but  himself.  After 
dinner,  he  cracks  nuts  and  disgusting  jokes,  for  the  amuse 
ment  of  those  who  have  been  sea-sick  and  still  feel  a  "  lee- 
tie  uncomfortable."  and  regards  it  as  quite  a  triumph  to 
drive  some  unfortunate  from  the  table.  Notwithstanding 
his  disgust  for  every  thing  put  on  the  table,  he  never  omits 
a  meal,  but  breakfasts,  lunches,  dines,  takes  tea  and  sups, 
with  a  regularity,  and  to  an  extent,  truly  surprising.  Actu 
ated  by  the  generous  impulses  of  a  public-spirited  individual, 
he  seems  resolved  that  the  captain  shall  have  no  delicacy 
on  his  table  which  he  himself  cannot  share.  He  will  order 
some  rare  dish.  and.  when  told  that  it  is  not  on  the  bill  of 
fare,  he  will  declare  his  conviction  that  he  saw  it  on  the 
captain's  table  at  lunch,  and  rudely  express  a  determination 
to  have  it  if  it  be  on  board.  He  manifests  his  admirable 
sense  of  decency  and  neatness  by  eyeing  with  frowning  dis 
trust  his  plate,  which  he  proceeds  furiously  to  rub,  and  then 
diligently  scours  his  knife  and  fork,  in  nervous  apprehension 
of  lurking  dirt.  He  throws  his  head  back  with  a  knowing 
jerk  in  the  accomplishment  of  this  interesting  proceeding, 
and  looks  around  for  applause  among  the  passengers,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  follow  my  example,  gentlemen  ;  I  am  an 
old  traveller,  and  am  resolved  not  to  be  unnecessarily  has 
tened  in  taking  'my  peck  of  dirt'  by  being  confined  to  these 
filthy  steamers."  He  will  permit  no  waiter  to  help  a  pas 
senger  from  a  favorite  dish  which  happens  to  be  near  him, 
but  he  helps  plates  himself,  and  the  unconquerable  greedi 
ness  of  the  man  protrudes  itself  in  the  very  ample  manner 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  223 

in  which  he  piles  up  his  own  plate,  and  the  rather  dainty  provi 
sion  he  makes  for  other  people.  I  cannot  resist  the  tempta 
tion  to  allude  to  the  somewhat  extraordinary  conduct  of  an 
official  personage  from  England,  whom  we  happened  to  have 
on  board  the  Baltic,  in  crossing  the  Atlantic  last  spring. 
He  never  omitted  at  a  single  dinner  during  the  entire  voy 
age  to  display  his  extravagant  profusion,  by  ordering  the 
most  expensive  description  of  champagne,  but,  with  the 
usual  prudence  of  an  Englishman,  he  was  always  particular 
in  taking  it  in  a  half-bottle,  which  he  swallowed  in  solitary 
grandeur.  He  had  several  friends,  but  no  one  of  them  was 
ever  invited  to  take  wine  with  him.  Indeed,  having  early 
discovered  that  the  allowance  of  wine  which  his  parsimony 
permitted  him  to  enjoy  was  insufficient  to  be  shared  even 
with  his  wife,  he  earnestly  insisted  that  this  meek-minded 
person  should  drink  porter^  as  it  was  so  much  more  ''whole 
some"  than  champagne.  The  poor  little  woman  was  an 
American,  whom  he  had  just  married,  and  evidently  did  not 
like  porter ;  but  she  submitted  without  a  murmur,  though 
she  could  not  resist  making  a  wry  face  at  the  cheap  bever 
age  her  husband  had  so  considerately  prescribed  for  her 
health.  This  continued  till  the  last  day  of  the  voyage,  when 
wine  is  furnished  by  the  captain  gratuitously  to  the  passen 
gers.  Immediately  after  taking  his  seat  on  that  occasion, 
our  official  gentleman  drew  one  of  the  bottles  to  his  side, 
from  which  he  refused  to  permit  the  waiters  to  help  other 
persons.  He  found  no  difficulty  in  disposing  of  the  wine 
which  he  had  so  unceremoniously  appropriated,  and  soon 
ordered  another  bottle  to  be  brought.  The  peculiar  whole- 
someness  of  porter  was  forgotten,  and  his  submissive  little 
wife  was  allowed  to  take  as  much  champagne  as  she  pleased. 
He  suddenly  remembered  that  he  had  friends  on  board, 
with  all  of  whom  he  successively  took  wine,  in  the  generous 
exhilaration  of  his  feelings.  And,  finally,  reaching  over  for 


224  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  third  bottle,  he  ordered  the  waiter  to  carry  it  with  his 
compliments  to  the  surgeon  of  the  ship,  as  he  desired  to  take 
wine  with  him.  I  wonder  if  he  remembered,  whilst  he  was 
nodding  with  condescending  familiarity,  that  it  was  the 
captain^s  wine  he  was  being  so  liberal  with.  But  the 
doubt  implies  a  suspicion  of  his  prudence,  which  I  acknow 
ledge  to  be  unjust.  Of  course,  he  recollected  the  fact,  for 
he  would  never  have  been  guilty  of  the  folly  of  sharing  with 
others  what  was  his  own.  I  was  delighted  with  the  whole 
proceeding.  I  felt  happy  to  make  the  discovery  that  even 
an  Englishman  was  profuse  in  his  generosity  when  he  could 
be  so  at  the  expense  of  other  people. 

When  on  deck  it  is  the  unceasing  struggle  of  the  genuine 
English  tourist  to  ape  the  ways  of  an  "  old  salt,"  and  he 
seems  to  think  that  having  a  stomach  like  a  cassowary  that 
nothing  can  turn  is  something  to  boast  of.  He  is  always  by 
very  far  the  busiest  man  on  board.  He  interrupts  the 
officers  in  discharge  of  their  duties  by  his  impertinent  sug 
gestions  ;  he  goes  "  aft  "  to  inspect  the  compass,  ''forcrd"  to 
superintend  the  steerage  passengers,  and  below  to  torment 
the  engineer.  In  rough  weather  he  always  wears  a  ;;  sou' 
wester  "  and  an  oil-cloth  coat.  He  eyes  the  sails  askance, 
sagely  discourses  of  " royals  "  "  top-gallant "  and  "  main  sets" 
and  speculates  profoundly  upon  a  probable  change  of  wind. 
He  is  intensely  ambitious  of  appearing  learned  about  trifles. 
He  can  always  tell  you  the  tonnage  of  the  ship,  her  length. 
her  cost,  and  quickest  voyage.  He  keeps  himself  posted  up 
as  to  the  log,  invariably  knows  the  number  of  revolutions 
the  wheels  arc  making  to  the  minute,  and  is  certain  to  be 
earliest  informed  of  "  the  last  twenty-four  hours'  run."  He 
is  foremost  in  all  marine  auctions  and  lotteries,  and  intensely 
delights  in  instructing  new-beginners  in  the  occult  science  of 
"  shuffieboard."  He  is  charmed  to  play  the  oracle  ;  and 
talks  most  glibly  for  the  edification  of  a  crowd.  He  is  never 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  225 

so  contented  as  when  recounting  to  a  squad  of  greenhorns 
the  adventures  of  former  voyages,  the  whales  he  has  seen, 
and  the  icebergs  he  has  encountered.  If  any  thing  a  little 
out  of  the  ordinary  routine  of  the  ship  happens  to  occur,  he 
immediately  pronounces  it  nothing  to  what  happened  to  him, 
during  a  certain  voyage,  on  a  certain  ship,  with  a  certain 
captain,  and  forthwith  proceeds  to  spin  interminable  yarns 
without  point,  of  his  past  personal  experience.  If  not  other 
wise  employed  he  will  hang  about  the  quarter-deck,  in  order 
to  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of  impudently  replying  to  questions 
asked  by  passengers  of  the  captain  with  regard  to  his  ship, 
and  her  management.  He  seems  as  destitute  of  delicacy  as 
of  modesty,  and  does  not  hesitate  to  answer  for  anybody, 
though  the  gentleman  addressed  was  present,  and  might 
very  naturally  be  supposed  to  prefer  talking  for  himself. 
He  will  intrude  himself  into  any  conversation  where  an  op 
portunity  occurs  of  showing  what  he  thinks  he  knows,  and 
seems  altogether  to  forget  that  he  may  occasionally  display 
his  ignorance,  as  well  as  his  rudeness,  by  such  gratuitous 
favors.  If  remonstrated  with  upon  such  conduct,  he  will 
reply,  "  Oh,  everybody  knows  me  ;  why,  my  dear  friend,  this  is 
my  twentieth  voyage  !  "  Being  an  Englishman,  and  such  a 
traveller,  gives  him  of  course  the  privilege  in  his  own  opinion 
of  sticking  his  nose  into  every  company  without  incurring 
the  danger  of  having  it  pulled,  as  it  often  deserves  to  be. 
He  indulges  himself  in  the  liberty  of  treating  everybody  as 
an  acquaintance,  since  he  considers  himself  not  at  all  bound 
to  acknowledge  on  shore  the  acquaintances  made  on  board  of 
the  ship.  In  throwing  aside  his  checked  travelling  coat 
and  cap,  he  conveniently  disremembers  all  the  passengers, 
whom  he  has  treated  with  such  patronizing  familiarity, 
unless  there  happens  to  be  among  them  somebody  of  dis 
tinction  whose  casual  acquaintance  he  is  certain  afterwards 
to  take  advantage  of  if  he  can.  It  is  amusing  during  the 
10* 


22G  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

first  few  days  after  leaving  port,  before  he  has  succeeded  in 
discovering  the  residence  and  occupation  of  every  one  on 
board,  to  watch  the  effect  produced  on  him  when  the  captain 
happens  to  take  wine  with  a  passenger.  He  immediately 
puts  down  the  fortunate  individual  as  worthy  of  being  in 
quired  after,  and  should  he  prove  to  be  of  the  preconceived 
degree  of  importance,  the  Englishman  unhesitatingly  com 
mences  a  system  of  toadyism  despicable  to  behold.  But  in 
solence  and  servility  are  usually  united.  One  is  rarely  dis 
covered  in  a  superlative  state  of  perfection  without  the  other. 
He  is  never  slow  in  arriving  at  his  conclusions,  for,  notwith 
standing  his  violent  condemnation  of  ':  Yankee  curiosity," 
he  possesses  a  peculiar  facility  for  picking  up  personal  de 
tails,  altogether  surpassing  any  thing  presented  among  other 
nations.  He  contrives  in  this  style  of  his  own  invention  to 
be  correctly  informed  as  to  name,  birth-place  and  occupation 
of  every  man,  woman  and  child  on  the  steamer,  without  once 
resorting  to  the  exploded  fashion  of  direct  interrogation. 
He  delights  in  being  appealed  to  for  the  decision  of  bets  and 
disputes  ;  and  generously  gives  the  advantage  of  his  opinion 
to  any  one  who  is  willing  to  receive  it.  He  seems  to  con 
sider  nothing  troublesome  that  affords  him  an  apology  for 
hearing  himself  talk.  Indeed  an  Englishman  appears  to 
have  two  characters  when  on  ship-board  and  on  shore. 
Silent  as  he  always  is  in  the  latter  situation,  in  the  former 
he  is  decidedly  garrulous,  though  not  the  less  stupid.  When 
he  can  find  nothing  else  to  meddle  in.  he  interferes  with 
the  prescriptions  of  the  ship's  surgeon,  by  recommending 
some  infallible  nostrum  of  his  own  which  he  has  known  in 
over  a  hundred  cases  to  relieve  sea-sickness  ;  and  insists  on 
cramming  the  stomachs  of  nauseated  passengers  as  full  of 
his  quack  do.ses  as  his  own  pockets.  He  never  misses  a 
chance  of  throwing  all  the  passengers  into  an  unnecessary 
commotion  by  intently  gazing  for  half  an  hour  through  the 


ENGLISH    MANNERS.  227 

spy -glass  on  vacancy.  Of  course  such  a  proceeding  on  the 
part  of  an  old  salt,  is  sufficient  to  make  every  man  advance  in 
turn  seriously  to  ogle  the  clouds  through  the  glass ;  for, 
though  the  "  old  salt "  assures  each  one  with  chuckling  satis 
faction,  that  he  has  seen  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  yet 
every  one  remains  firmly  convinced  that  there  must  be  ;'  some 
thing  ahead."  He  finds  too  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  amuse 
ment  in  pointing  his  prophetic  finger  to  imaginary  "  sails," 
which  passengers  cannot  see  because  they  have  neither  ac 
quired  their  "  ocean  eyes,"  nor  their  "  sea  legs." 


228  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

ENGLISH  DEVOTION  TO  DINNER. 

CEREMONY  and  dining  constitute  the  melancholy  recre 
ations  of  an  Englishman's  life.  Eating  is  the  only  thing 
which  he  is  permitted  to  do  heartily,  and  as  if  he  enjoyed  it. 
He  cannot  talk,  he  cannot  think,  he  cannot  dress  as  he  pleases, 
there  is  an  inviolable  rule  for  them  all.  He  is  never  free 
till  armed  with  a  knife  and  fork,  indeed  he  is  never  complete 
ly  himself  without  them.  Even  the  order  in  which  he  must 
place  himself  at  the  table,  and  the  manner  of  occupying  his 
seat,  are  both  prescribed  by  law.  He  only  escapes  restraint 
when  he  feels  the  familiar  touch  of  those  domestic  weapons 
of  offence,  which  may  be  as  properly  considered  integral 
portions  of  an  Englishman  as  claws  are  of  a  cat. 

I  once  said  that  an  Englishman's  dinner  "was  not  only 
the  event  of  the  day,  but  the  primary  object  of  his  life." 
With  the  English  eating  is  not  simply  the  highest  enjoyment 
of  their  existence,  but  it  has  become  the  great  national  mode 
of  commemorating  social  incidents  and  public  events.  From 
birth  to  death  a  prolonged  set-to  at  the  table  marks  the 
principal  occurrences  of  an  Englishman's  life,  lie  is  joy 
ously  ushered  into  the  world,  and  solemnly  escorted  out  of 
it,  by  a  feast.  A  child  is  born,  a  christening  follows,  and  a 
huge  lunch  Frenchified  into  "dfjcuncr"  is  the  consequence. 
A  man  gets  married,  and  his  father-in-law  feels  a  hungry 
sort  of  necessity  to  feed  all  the  friends  of  the  family  on  the 


ENGLISH    DEVOTION    TO    DINNER.  229 

day  of  the  wedding.  A  man  dies,  and  his  relations  and 
friends  assemble  to  read  his  will,  and  devour  a  solemn 
dinner  at  his  expense.  They  write  cards  of  condolence 
to  his  family  and  send  their  empty  carriages  to  attend 
his  funeral,  but  take  good  care  to  be  at  his  "wake"  in 
person.  Englishmen  do  almost  every  thing  by  proxy  but 
eat — that  is  a  duty  which  they  religiously  perform  them 
selves.  The  professions  of  distress  they  deem  it  proper  to 
make  upon  these  funeral  occasions,  are  as  heartless  as  the 
notes  of  consolation  they  write  to  the  family.  The  outward 
forms  of  sorrow  they  consider  it  decent  to  observe,  are  as 
empty  as  the  mourning  coaches. 

If  a  great  Lord  makes  a  great  speech,  all  the  corpora 
tions  immediately  honor  him  with  a  great  dinner.  If  a  dis 
tinguished  diplomatist  negotiates  an  important  treaty,  they 
fete  him  by  feeding  him.  If  a  mighty  General  gains  a 
mighty  victory,  he  must  at  once  pass  through  the  ordeal  of 
a  mighty  repast,  where  more  fatigue  must  be  endured  than 
in  his  whole  campaign,  and  more  wine  must  be  drunk,  and 
indigestible  turtle  swallowed,  than  the  blood  he  has 
shed  and  the  lead  he  has  wasted  in  the  battle.  If  an 
Englishman  wishes  to  be  respectful,  he  gives  a  dinner ;  if  he 
desires  to  be  polite,  he  invites  you  to  dine ;  and  should  he 
wish  to  be  sociable,  he  insists  upon  your  joining  the  family 
circle  at  the  important  meal  of  the  day.  If  a  stranger 
brings  a  letter  of  introduction,  a  dinner  is  the  result,  unless 
the  man  who  gave  the  letter  has  the  meanness  to  write  pri 
vately  to  your  host  that  you  are  unworthy  of  such  an  honor. 
From  such  premises  we  can  readily  determine  the  value  at 
which  the  friendship  and  attentions  of  these  people  are  to  be 
estimated,  when  it  is  a  precept  especially  enjoined  upon  them, 
that,  if  they  give  a  letter  of  introduction  to  an  improper 
person,  'tis  their  duty  to  write  at  once  by  mail,  warning  the 
person  to  whom  it  is  directed  of  the  fact.  We  know  not 


230  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

whether  to  feel  the  greatest  contempt  for  the  man's  conduct 
when  he  shows  himself  so  destitute  of  all  manliness  of  char 
acter  as  to  be  unable  to  refuse  an  introductory  letter,  to  an 
improper  person,  or  when  he  descends  to  this  clandestine 
mode  of  confessing  his  own  meanness. 

Englishmen  not  only  regard  eating  as  the  most  inestima- 
biC  blessing  in  life,  when  they  enjoy  it  themselves,  but  they 
are  always  intensely  delighted  to  see  it  going  on.  The  gov 
ernment  charge  an  extra  shilling  at  the  Zoological  Gardens 
on  the  days  that  the  animals  are  fed  in  public,  but.  as  much 
as  an  Englishman  dislikes  spending  money,  the  extraordinary 
attraction  never  fails  to  draw  an  immensely  increased  crowd, 
even  with  the  advanced  prices.  I  mean  not  to  intimate  that 
there  is  any  thing  objectionable  about  social  conviviality. 
There  is  something  comfortable  and  agreeable  in  the  simple 
act  of  taking  a  glass  of  wine,  which,  like  the  coffee-drinking 
and  pipe-smoking  among  the  Turks,  produces  at  once  a 
genial  feeling  of  good  fellowship ;  and  I  know  that  if  two 
boon-companions  get  drunk  together,  they  are  sworn  friends 
for  life.  It  is  not  my  desire  to  interrupt  that  "  feast  of 
reason  and  flow  of  soul,"  which  these  enthusiastic  lovers  of 
"belly-cheer  "  will  not  agree  can  occur  elsewhere  than  at  the 
dinner-table.  I  can  myself  conceive  of  few  things  more 
charming  than  a  small,  well-assorted  party,  gathered  sociably 
about  a  round  table.  But  I  am  opposed  to  the  idolatrous 
tenets  of  those  who  can  worship  at  no  shrine  save  that  of  the 
hungry  spirits  of  their  vasty  stomachs.  The  man  whose 
soul  is  confined  to  the  limits  of  a  paunch,  however  capacious, 
could  find  little  use  for  a  heart,  when  a  gizzard  would  answer 
all  his  purposes  so  much  more  admirably. 

The  frigid  ceremony,  the  weighty  forms  and  solemn  de 
portment  at  an  English  dinner-table,  must  exclude  every 
thing  like  mirth  or  social  chit-chat.  They  assemble  to  eat, 
and  all  conversation  of  a  light  or  amusing  character  is  re- 


ENGLISH   DEVOTION    TO    DINNER.  231 

garded  as  an  unpardonable  interruption  to  the  business  of 
the  meeting.  As  I  said  before,  an  Englishman  is  never 
wholly  himself  until  armed  with  the  carving-knife.  He 
takes  to  the  weapon  as  naturally  as  Indians  to  bows  or  Span 
iards  to  stilettoes.  The  formal  rules  of  English  society  do 
not  pretend  to  extend  to  the  dinner-table.  There  even  Eng 
lishmen  are  free.  Each  bold  Briton  can  gorge  himself  to 
his  own  private  satisfaction,  provided  he  does  not  interrupt 
his  neighbors  by  irrelevant  remarks,  but  leaves  them  to  the 
enjoyment  of  the  same  much  esteemed  privilege.  Silence 
and  stuffing  are  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  a  grand 
dinner  party.  And  so  apprehensive  are  they  that  the  very 
few  civilities  which  Englishmen  feel  it  incumbent  on  them  to 
offer  to  ladies,  might  too  seriously  interfere  with  the  swilling 
and  cramming  proceedings  of  the  day,  that  the  ladies  all  re 
tire  at  a  given  signal,  leaving  the  men  to  force  nuts  and  guz 
zle  wine  till  their  stomachs  or  their  legs  rebel  against  the 
unnatural  imposition,  when  they  once  more  repair  to  the  par 
lor  to  pick  their  teeth,  and  stare  in  maudlin  silence  at  "  the 
women." 

It  is  fashionable  to  extol  the  English  as  the  countrymen 
of  Shakspeare  and  Milton,  as  if,  with  their  language,  they 
must  necessarily  have  inherited  the  elevation  of  mind  which 
distinguished  those  worthies.  But  each  sleek  modern  head 
will  be  found  to  be  much  fuller  of  pudding  than  poetry. 
Upon  examination,  all  must  confess  that  the  English  public 
are  decidedly  more  familiar  with  the  living  on  the  rival  lines 
of  steamers  than  the  beauties  of  the  old  English  poets.  And 
the  comparative  excellence  of  Parisian  restaurants  and  Lon 
don  chop-houses,  constitutes  a  study  much  more  congenial 
to  their  taste,  than  musty  incidents  in  the  lives  of  dead 
celebrities.  What  do  the  English  nation  possess  in  common 
with  Shakspeare  and  Milton  but  their  birthplace  and  their 
language  ?  The  first  was  the  heritage  of  chance,  the  last 


?32  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

they  have  debased  by  confining  it  to  the  mean  uses  of  gor 
mandizing  triflers  and  chaffering  hucksterers.  The  Mahom 
etans  for  many  centuries  were  in  posssesion  of  the  holiest 
places  of  the  East,  and  as  an  evidence  of  how  worthy  they 
were  of  the  succession,  they  changed  churches  into  stables,  and 
shrines  into  pcdlers'  stalls.  The  fact  of  the  English  na 
tion's  speaking  the  same  language  as  Shakspeare  and  Mil 
ton,  only  makes  the  absence  of  every  other  noble  quality  the 
more  startling. 

If  the  greatness  of  men  be  estimated  by  their  circum 
ference,  and  their  reputations  rated  according  to  their  appe 
tites,  then  England  has  a  just  right  to  be  proud  of  her  pro 
gress.  The  wan  figures  of  Shakspeare  and  Milton  might 
well  hide  themselves  deeper  in  their  shrouds,  appalled  by  the 
prodigious  masticatory  performances  of  the  modern  race  of 
Britons.  For  their  exploits  as  trenchermen  would  astound 
their  Saxon  ancestors  themselves,  whose  tables  habitually 
groaned  under  the  weight  of  whole  roast  porkers  and  inte 
gral  sheep.  But  he  who  assigns  a  higher  destiny  to  man 
than,  after  huge  dinners,  to  crack  nuts  and  swill  wine,  must 
acknowledge  that  the  nation  have  tumbled  from  the  summit 
to  the  foot  of  Parnassus.  He  must  confess  that  they  are 
not  only  destitute  of  the  genius  to  produce,  but  the  taste  to 
appreciate,  such  works  as  have  rendered  the  Bard  of  Avon 
and  his  blind  successor  immortal.  Nonsensical  shows  in 
crystal  palaces,  and  the  silly  plots  of  Italian  operas,  have 
usurped  the  places,  in  the  taste  of  the  people,  of  the  histor 
ical  plays  and  divine  poetry  of  the  great  masters  of  Eng 
lish  verse. 

When  it  is  remembered  that  the  richer  portions  of  the 
p]nglish  people  consider  themselves  happy  in  proportion  to 
the  dainty  gratification  of  their  appetites,  it  seems  strange  in 
deed  that  in  the  gastronomic  science,  at  least,  the  nation  have 
not  excelled.  They  are  not  original  even  in  their  gluttony. 


ENGLISH    DEVOTION    TO    DINNER.  233 

Possessing  the  utmost  capabilities  to  devour,  they  are 
destitute  of  the  ingenuity  to  invent  the  gross  dishes  with 
which  they  cram  themselves.  They  owe  to  a  foreign  nation 
the  mean  privilege  of  bestial  indulgence.  No  one  can  doubt 
the  eminent  qualifications  of  Englishmen  to  show  the  rest 
of  the  world  how  to  eat ;  but  France  has  taught  them  how 
to  cook.  But  still,  if  digestion  and  not  genius  be  the  chief  - 
est  blessing  to  intellectual  man,  as  the  universal  practice 
among  Englishmen  would  seem  to  indicate,  then  the  modern 
triumphs  of  mind  have  not  been  inferior  to  those  of  steam, 
in  Great  Britain. 

Frenchmen  live  to  dance ;  Englishmen  to  eat.  About 
what  is  a  Briton  so  anxious  as  his  kitchen  ?  of  what  is  he  so 
proud  as  his  cook  ?  with  regard  to  what  is  he  so  solicitous  as 
his  dinner  ?  Here  all  his  hopes  are  concentrated,  here  'tis 
his  highest  ambition  to  excel.  His  cook  is  the  stage-mana 
ger,  his  kitchen  the  green-room,  and  dinner-table  the  stage 
of  the  theatre  on  which  the  drama  of  his  existence  is  played. 
The  gorgeous  decorations  of  his  theatre,  the  assembling 
fashionable  audiences,  and  the  successful  performance  of  the 
stupid  pantomimes  usually  produced  there,  constitute  the  ex 
citing  employment  of  a  lifetime.  Lively  comedies  are  ban 
ished,  as  unbecoming  the  awful  dignity  of  the  place,  and 
even  the  stately  periods  of  the  heaviest  tragedies  are  es 
chewed,  as  interruptions  to  "  the  stage  business,"  which  is 
cheifly  conducted  by  means  of  knives  and  forks.  The  pro 
prietor  of  the  establishment  displays  an  enthusiasm  alto 
gether  unknown  among  the  most  enthusiastic  of  his  breth 
ren,  the  professional  players.  If  he  toils  to  be  rich,  it  is  to 
acquire  means  of  purchasing  plate,  liveries,  wines  and  deli 
cacies  for  his  play-house.  If  he  cringes,  begs  and  bribes,  in 
his  efforts  for  a  title,  it  is  all  done  to  secure  noble  person 
ages  to  grace  his  front  boxes. 

Almost  every  man,  of   every  nation,  cherishes  in   his 


234-  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

dreaming  moments  of  reverie  some  pet  scheme  of  ambition 
or  enjoyment,  and  no  exertion  seems  too  great,  no  privation 
too  terrible  for  its  realization.  Mahomet,  to  coax  into 
paths  of  virtue  his  vicious  followers,  presented  to  their  warm 
imaginations  the  black-eyed  houris,  the  brimming  wine-cups 
and  shady  fountains  of  paradise.  But  an  Englishman  needs 
no  keener  incentive  to  exertion  than  a  glimmering  glance  of 
the  happy  period  when  he  will  be  rich  enough  to  do  nothing 
but  eat.  Ambition,  pleasure  and  excitement  are  all  stowed 
away,  like  apples  in  a  dumpling,  in  this  superlative  gratifica 
tion.  The  voluptuous  paradise  of  Mahomet  appears  in 
complete  to  English  eyes ;  there  is  no  dinner-table  and  no 
provision  made  for  regular  meals.  Without  dinner  heaven 
itself  seems  scarcely  worth  possessing.  An  Englishman's 
imagination  can  revel  in  ho  sweeter  Elysium  than  hav 
ing  plenty  to  eat  and  an  appetite  to  enjoy  it.  His  an 
tipathy  to  chameleons  may  be  attributed  to  the  fact  of  their 
living  on  air.  His  neglect  of  Shakspeare  may  be  accounted 
for  by  his  never  having  dedicated  an  ode  to  the  charms  of 
roast  beef. 

Englishmen  may  well  feel  proud,  with  the  rest  of  the 
world,  that  human  nature  has  produced  such  specimens  of 
her  handicraft  as  Shakspeare  and  Milton.  But  each  bold 
Briton  should  blush  to  claim  them  as  countrymen.  He 
should  shrink  from  the  mortifying  example,  that  he  himself 
presents,  of  the  degeneracy  of  the  nation  since  the  days 
when  Shakspeare  wrote,  and  Milton  sung.  Their  genius 
was  only  bounded  by  the  limits  of  creation  ;  his  mind  re 
volves  in  the  orbit  of  his  plate  ;  his  fancy  never  soars,  but  on 
the  fumes  of  some  favorite  dish.  Tie  knows  no  intenser 
joy  than  a  plum-pudding,  and  rarely  suffers  a  keener  inflic 
tion  than  an  overdone  beef-steak.  He  is  erudite  in  sauces, 
and  deeply  versed  in  pies.  His  vast  amount  of  kitchen  sta 
tistics  is  really  imposing.  Though  he  is  hopelessly  ignorant 


ENGLISH    DEVOTION    TO    DINNER.  235 

of  the  general  lierature  of  France,  his  noddle  is  tightly 
packed  with  French  cookery  receipts.  His  thoughts  are 
much  more  absorbed  in  the  mysteries  of  roast  beef  and 
boiled  mutton  than  the  beauties  of  the  rival  measures  of 
verse.  His  ingenuity  is  much  more  deeply  immersed  in  the 
composition  of  a  new  gravy  than  the  comparative  charms  of 
Hexameters  and  Alexandrines.  In  short,  lie  is  just  the  sort 
of  fellow,  who,  in  reading  Paradise  Lost,  would  be  intensely 
curious  to  know  whether  Lucifer  was  addicted  to  night  sup 
pers,  who  would  give  the  first  joint  of  his  little  finger  to  find 
out  what  Adam  and  Eve  had  for  lunch  5  a  man  to  wonder 
that  Macbeth  should  have  supped  on  "  horrors,"  when  his 
royal  exchequer  might  have  afforded  him  the  means  of  pro 
curing  so  much  more  digestible  stuff.  ';  The  Housekeeper's 
own  Cook,"  is  his  text-book,  whilst  poor  Shakspeare  remains 
the  gilded  ornament  of  neglected  shelves. 

Nature  only  seems  beautiful  to  an  Englishman  when  she 
ministers  to  the  cravings  of  his  belly ;  he  never  courts  her 
society  but  to  alleviate  the  pains  of  table  indulgences.  Wav 
ing  woods  and  lowing  herds  are  only  suggestive  to  his  mind 
of  blazing  fires  and  roast  beef.  Babbling  brooks  and  placid 
lakes  do  but  remind  him  of  the  inestimable  blessing  derived 
from  the  application  of  steam  to  the  culinary  art.  Great 
ocean  himself  has  no  grandeur  in  his  eyes,  except  as  the 
boundless  means  of  importation  of  foreign  edibles.  He 
climbs  towering  cliffs  and  wanders  beside  sparkling  water 
falls  in  search  of  an  appetite.  He  makes  romantic  tours  to 
escape  from  the  gout,  and  frequents  picturesque  and  inacces 
sible  places  as  the  best  cure  for  the  dyspepsy.  He  makes 
runs  into  Scotland  for  the  sake  of  oat-meal  cakes,  and  so 
journs  amidst  the  wild  beauties  of  Switzerland,  in  order  to 
be  convenient  to  goat's  milk.  He  goes  to  France  to  replen 
ish  an  exhausted  purse,  and  to  Italy  to  repair  a  broken  con 
stitution. 


236  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

If  guts  could  perform  the  functions  of  brains,  Greece's 
seven  wise  men  would  cease  to  be  proverbial,  for  England 
would  present  to  the  world  twenty-seven  millions  of  sages. 
If  the  English  people  did  every  thing  as  they  eat.  we  should 
no  longer  have  to  turn  to  Home  for  examples  of  eloquence 
and  heroism.  'Tis  true  they  have  produced  no  eminent 
feeders  whose  gluttony  has  become  a  proverb  ;  they  can  boast 
no  Vitellius  and  Heliogabalus ;  but  it  would  be  difficult  in 
deed  for  a  single  individual  to  eat  himself  into  celebrity  in 
a  country  where  every  ordinary  citizen  surpasses,  without 
effort,  the  immortal  table  exploits  of  the  imperial  voluptua 
ries.  The  English  nation  seem  much  more  deeply  impressed, 
than  were  the  Romans  themselves,  by  the  force  and  elo 
quence  of  Meneuius  Agrippa's  fable  of  the  belly  and  the  mem 
bers,  by  which  he  succeeded  in  coaxing  the  rebellious  ple 
beians  from  the  Mons  Sacer  back  to  deserted  Rome.  In 
their  admiration  of  the  truth  and  beauty  of  this  famous 
fable  they  appear  to  have  forgotten  the  figurative  meaning  in 
tended  to  be  conveyed,  and  to  have  taken  it  in  its  literal  sense 
as  their  motto,  sacrificing  the  members  and  every  thing  else 
to  the  all-devouring  belly.  Intellect,  honor,  ambition,  plea 
sure,  are  all  swallowed  up  in  this  vast  receptacle  of  plum- 
pudding  and  roast  beef.  In  their  enthusiastic  devotion  to 
their  voracious  idol,  they  appear  to  have  grown  unmindful 
that  there  arc  higher  duties  for  man  to  perform  than  to  eat, 
that  there  are  nobler  aims  for  him  to  live  for  than  the  grati 
fication  of  his  appetite.  To  eat,  to  drink,  to  look  greasy, 
and  to  grow  fat,  appears  to  constitute,  in  their  opinions,  the 
career  of  a  worthy  British  subject.  I  mean  not  to  insinuate 
that  "  to  be  fat "  is  "  to  be  hated."  There  is  something  com 
fortable  about  a  portly  corporation,  and  genuine  mirth  it 
seems  to  me  delights  to  lurk  in  the  folds  of  a  double  chin. 
Flesh  acquired  in  the  merry  circle  of  friends,  the  joyous 
result  of  laughter  and  good  cheer,  is  always  the  best  evidence 


ENGLISH    DEVOTION    TO    DINNER.  237 

of  a  kind  heart  and  liberal  disposition.  But  corpulence 
without  jollity  whispers  of  self]  it  is  eloquent  of  the  mean 
ness  of  secret  stuffings  and  solitary  potations.  To  be  gross 
without  being  good-humored  is  to  be  swinish,  and  conse 
quently  to  be  shunned.  But  an  Englishman  is  never  so 
silent  as  when  eating.  Like  other  carnivorous  animals  he 
is  always  surly  over  his  meals.  Morose  at  all  times,  he  be 
comes  unbearably  so  at  that  interesting  period  of  the  day, 
when  his  soul  appears  to  cower  among  plates  and  dishes, 
as  if  with  the  suspicious  dread  of  being  called  upon  to  divide 
that  which  it  clings  to,  even  more  fondly  than  to  money,  his 
dinner. 

An  Englishman  is  like  all  well  constructed  guns,  he 
never  goes  on0  into  any  displays  of  animation  until  completely 
loaded  with  the  good  things  of  the  table  and  primed  with 
good  wine.  And  when  upon  such  auspicious  occasions  he 
does  go  off  into  something  like  gayety,  there  is  such  fearful 
quivering  of  vast  jelly-moulds  of  flesh,  something  so  super- 
naturally  tremendous  in  his  efforts,  that  like  the  recoil  of  an 
overloaded  musket  he  never  fails  to  astound  those  who 
happen  to  be  near  him.  Eminently  sensual,  he  is  not  even 
enthusiastic  in  his  sensualities.  He  gloats  rather  than  ex 
ults  over  those  exquisite  delights  of  the  table,  which,  in  his 
opinion,  are  so  soul-stirring.  Though  he  gorges  his  food  with 
the  silent  deliberation  of  the  Anaconda,  yet  in  descanting 
upon  the  delicacies  of  the  last  :c  capital  dinner  "  at  which  he 
was  present,  he  makes  an  approach  to  animation  altogether 
unusual  with  him  on  other  occasions.  He  loves  to  dwell  with 
lingering  affection  upon  the  roast  beef  and  plum-pudding  he 
ate  and  the  porter  he  swallowed.  And  in  discoursing  with 
tender  minuteness  upon  the  charms  of  these  delicious  vi 
ands,  he  displays  a  touching  earnestness  which  might  almost 
be  considered  eloquence. 

He  deems  no  friend  worth  having  who  does  not  give  fine 


238  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

dinners  ;  and  no  individual  unworthy  of  being  cultivated 
who  is  known  to  have  a  good  cook.  Every  Englishman  is  a 
systematic  "  diner-out ;  "  and  as  assiduously  intrigues  for 
invitations  to  dinner,  as  ambitious  politicians  for  sinecure 
preferments  of  state.  He  delights  in  entertainments  pro 
digiously  expensive,  but,  like  Vitellius,  he  makes  it  a  rule  to 
enjoy  them  at  his  own  expense  as  little  as  possible.  Thus 
every  private  citizen  in  Great  Britain  enjoys  the  honor  of 
uniting  in  his  own  person  the  two  qualities  which  have  ren 
dered  this  Roman  Emperor  immortal :  parsimonious  as  Vi 
tellius,  he  is  much  more  of  a  glutton.  With  two  such  genial 
traits  as  a  basis,  'tis  not  strange  that  such  a  pyramid  of 
social  peculiarities  has  been  reared  as  to  crush  all  kindly 
feelings  towards  the  English  in  every  foreign  country.  When 
it  is  remembered  that  of  all  the  vices,  avarice  is  most  apt  to 
corrupt  the  heart,  and  gluttony  has  the  greatest  tendency  to 
brutalize  the  mind,  it  no  longer  continues  surprising  that  an 
Englishman  has  become  a  proverb  of  meanness  from  Paris 
to  Jerusalem.  The  hatred  and  contempt  of  all  classes  of 
society  as  necessarily  attend  him,  in  his  wanderings,  as  his 
own  shadow.  All  those  whose  positions  make  them  subser 
vient  to  his  ill-humor  as  cordially  hate,  as  other  citizens  and 
travellers  despise  him.  His  passions  for  gold  and  eating 
have  so  entirely  swallowed  up  every  other  feeling,  that  lie 
appears  really  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  many  of  those 
pleasing  little  refinements  which  even  savages  instinctively 
practise.  His  unnecessary  harshness  to  inferiors,  and  his 
arrogant  assumption  among  his  equals  have  cut  him  off  from 
all  sympathy  with  his  kind.  Equally  repulsive  to  every 
grade,  he  stands  isolated  and  alone,  a  solitary  monument  of  the 
degradation  of  which  human  nature  is  capable.  Destitute  of 
all  consideration  for  those  beneath  him. he  appears  to  believe 
that  they  were  created,  like  other  domestic  animals,  for  his 
pleasure  and  convenience.  But  in  his  treatment  of  them  hii 


ENGLISH    DEVOTION    TO    DINNER.  239 

cruei  nature  is  restrained  by  no  salutary  apprehensions  of 
punishment  by  those  numerous  humane  societies  which  are 
established  in  England  to  prevent  cruelty  to  animals.  The 
charities  of  the  nation  expend  themselves  in  tender  solicitude 
for  horses  and  asses,  without  experiencing  one  sympathizing 
throb  of  kindness  for  those  of  their  fellow-creatures  who 
have  had  the  misfortune  to  be  born  poor.  But  as  I  have 
before  remarked,  poverty  is  the  only  crime  in  England  which 
admits  of  no  palliation.  The  delicate  nerves  and  nice  sensi 
bilities  of  English  charity,  would  be  shocked  to  penetrate 
into  those  sinks  of  hungry  wretchedness,  where  starving  thou 
sands  are  driven  by  necessity,  rather  than  destitution  of  moral 
principles,  into  open  warfare  with  that  society  r  from  whose 
selfish  system  of  regulation  they  have  suffered  so  much,  and 
from  whose  sympathy  they  can  hope  so  little.  The  extremely 
proper  regard  for  cleanliness  and  acute  sense  of  smell  in  Eng 
lishmen  would  entirely  prevent  their  descending  into  those 
loathsome  dens,  in  which  despairing  misery  is  wont  to  hide 
itself.  Contact  with  rags  and  filth  is  vulgar.  They  reserve 
their  kindly  offices  for  the  well-washed  and  newly-combed 
inmates  of  model  prisons,  and  new-fangled  houses  of  correc 
tion.  These  dapper  philanthropists  shrink  with  loathing 
from  misfortune,  when  arrayed  in  the  frightful  paraphernalia 
of  .woe.  But  let  a  man  pick  a  pocket,  or  rob  an  orphan  box  ; 
let  him  by  the  frequent  repetition  of  crime  prove  himself 
utterly  destitute  of  every  moral  principle,  and  he  immediately 
becomes  an  object  of  especial  interest  to  the  benevolent  of 
both  sexes  in  England.  Men  of  genius  are  employed  to 
construct  commodious  and  healthy  places  of  confinement  for 
these  hardened  rascals.  Rival  philanthropists  vie  with  each 
other  in  suggesting  plans  of  prison  discipline  which  shall 
most  conduce  to  their  social  improvement.  The  scoundrel- 
sympathy  which  distinguishes  the  ostentatious  charity  of 
Englishmen,  provides  humane  keepers  to  minister  to  their 


240  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

personal  comforts,  skilful  physicians  to  watcn  over  their 
health,  and  pious  chaplains  to  superintend  their  religious 
culture  ;  every  attention  is  paid  to  the  cleanliness  and  airy 
situation  of  their  rooms  ;  every  precaution  is  taken  to  se 
cure  for  them  a  healthy  diet ;  good  Samaritans  of  the  gen 
tler  sex  are  constantly  visiting  the  prison  wards  to  distribute 
tracts  and  consolation  to  these  irreclaimable  villains.  All 
this  is  done  for  these  corrupt  scoundrels,  whilst  gaunt  star 
vation  is  permitted  to  stalk  unheeded  among  those  of  the 
wretched,  who  have  as  yet  secured  no  claim  upon  the  charity 
of  these  benevolent  benefactors  of  thieves,  by  the  commission 
of  crime.  Does  it  not  seem  strange,  that  some  gold  and  so 
much  solicitude  should  be  employed  for  the  benefit  of  these 
daring  renegades  from  law  and  religion,  whilst  the  really  de 
serving  objects  of  charity  are  left  to  die  uncared  for  and 
alone  ?  Does  it  not  appear  remarkable  that  all  the  benevo 
lent  impulses  of  the  British  nation  should  exhaust  themselves 
in  exertions  for  these  hopelessly  vicious  outcasts  of  society, 
who  have  so  unmistakably  shown  themselves  "  the  stony 
ground "  in  which  the  seeds  of  righteousness  could  never 
take  root  ?  But  they  shrink  in  disgust  from  really  suffering 
innocence,  which,  if  properly  cared  for,  would  be  found  to 
be  "  the  good  ground  that  did  yield  fruit  that  sprang  up,  and 
increased,  and  brought  forth  some  thirty,  and  some  sixty, 
and  some  an  hundred."  The  ambitious  Pharisees  of  Eng 
land  have  not  even  the  mean  apology  for  their  conduct,  of  a 
fellow-feeling  for  these  malefactors.  They  do  their  alms  before 
men  in  order  ':  to  be  seen  of  them."  The  benefactors  of 
public  criminals  get  their  names  into  the  papers  ;  their 
bounty  is  eulogized  by  "  the  Times.'1'1  The  liberal  founders 
of  model  prisons,  and  the  charitable  advocates  of  reformed 
houses  of  correction,  u  have  glory  of  men/' whilst  the  modest 
doer  of  good  relieving  in  secret  the  wants  of  the  obscure 
pauper  must  await  his  recompense  in  Heaven,  where  "  thy 


ENGLISH    DEVOTION    TO    DINNER.  241 

Father  that  seeth  in  secret  himself  shall  reward  thee  open- 
ly." 

An  Englishman  entertains  a  high  scorn  for  every  man 
who  does  not  eat  hugely,  and  drink  well.  He  respects  indi 
viduals  according  to  their  abdominal,  rather  than  their  men 
tal,  capacities.  He  observes  with  admiration  their  corporeal, 
not  their  phrenological,  developments.  People  who  have 
weak  digestive  organs  he  regards  with  that  pitying  sort  of 
contempt  with  which  a  youthful  literary  pretender  might  be 
supposed  to  look  down  upon  some  half-witted  unfortunate. 
And  those  who  are  unable  to  gobble  food  to  the  same  extent 
as  an  ostrich,  he  feels  sorry  for,  as  being  deprived  of  man's 
divinest  faculty.  An  enormous  stomach,  and  a  plentiful 
supply  of  gastric  juice,  he  regards  as  just  subjects  for  con 
gratulation.  Being  convinced  that  to  eat  is  man's  highest 
destiny  on  earth,  he  assiduously  cultivates  the  powers  which 
most  conduce  to  its  ample  accomplishment.  The  dilating 
power  of  the  anaconda,  and  the  gizzard  of  a  cassowary,  are 
the  pet  objects  of  his  ambition.  He  leaves  inexperienced 
sages  to  preach  the  importance  of  a  mind  well  stored  with 
useful  information,  and  a  powerful  mind  to  digest  and  apply 
it,  whilst  his  only  care  is  a  stomach  well  stuffed  with  dain 
ties  ;  his  only  anxiety  a  generous  flow  of  the  digestive  fluid. 
True  wisdom,  in  his  opinion,  indulges  in  mastication,  rather 
than  meditation.  In  his  judgment,  the  seat  of  all  heavenly 
joys  is  the  belly,  not  the  mind.  He  wonders  how  men  can 
ever  be  unhappy  whilst  they  can  eat  and  drink.  There  is  no 
disappointment  so  bitter,  no  calamity  so  great,  that  it  can 
not  be  comfortably  smothered  with  roast  beef  and  porter. 
He  knows  no  excitement  so  intense,  or  joy  so  thrilling,  as  a 
smoking  plate  of  ox-tail  soup,  backed  by  the  usual  beef  and 
potato  accompaniments  of  an  English  dinner.  And  when 
his  eyes  close,  and  his  skin  becomes  distended,  under  the 
sweetly  soothing  influence  of  these  savory  viands,  his  soul  is 
11 


242  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

filled  with  a  "  content  so  absolute"  that  he  has  nothing  more 
to  live  for  till  dinner-time  next  day.  "Tis  true  that  he 
breakfasts,  that  he  lunches,  takes  tea,  and  sups,  for  there  is 
music  to  him  in  the  clatter  of  knives  and  forks  that  cannot 
be  heard  too  often  to  be  amusing  ;  but  the  u  tocsin  of  his 
soul  is  the  dinner-bell  ;"  it  is  his  national  anthem  which 
arouses  within  him-  all  the  ferocious  heroism  of  his  nature  ; 
its  stirring  notes  make  him  eager  for  the  assault.  Its  in 
spiring  harmony  awakes  him  from  the  lethargy,  and,  armed 
with  a  knife  and  fork, "  Richard  is  himself  again."  The 
daggers  of  the  patriot  conspirators  were  not  more  fiercely 
wielded  against  Julius  Ca>sar,  than  are  these  natural  wea 
pons  of  an  Englishman,  in  his  eagerness  to  get  the  "  first 
cut"  from  "the  hot  joint."  The  position  as  well  as  the  ap 
petite  of  people  is  reckoned  according  to  the  order  of  "  cuts" 
in  which  they  come,  and  he  who  obtains  the  "  first "  enjoys 
the  honor  that  Englishmen  most  dearly  prize.  The  second 
ary  meals  an  Englishman  takes  to  while  away  the  dozing 
hours  that  must  elapse  before  the  period  of  the  great  event 
of  the  day  arrives  ;  and,  besides,  a  certain  degree  of  reple 
tion  is  absolutely  essential  to  his  comfort.  But  dinner  is 
his  grand  climacteric ;  for  dinner  he  reserves  himself,  at 
dinner  he  makes  his  great  display ;  to  him  dinner  is  the  con 
centration  of  life's  rarest  joys ;  for  dinner  he  elaborately 
prepares  himself ;  for  dinner  he  purges,  bathes,  rubs,  and 
dresses  ;  to  dinner  he  looks  forward  with  the  intense  longing 
of  the  weary  sentinel  awaiting  the  corporal's  guard  that  is 
to  relieve  him  ;  of  dinner  he  makes  his  existence  a  dream  ; 
he  talks,  he  cares  about  nothing  but  his  dinner ;  his  only 
regret  seems  to  be  that  he  is  so  constituted  that  he  cannot 
pass  his  life  at  the  dinner-table.  The  only  annoyance  which 
ever  seriously  disturbs  his  digestion  is,  that  the  process  of 
stuffing  is  not  as  harmless  to  him  as  to  a  Bologna  sausage. 
But  alas  for  the  happiness  of  British  nature!  not  even  the 


ENGLISH    DEVOTION    TO    DINNER.  243 

innocent  amusement  of  eating  is  to  be  indulged  to  excess 
without  retributive  pains.  Misery  and  mineral  water  are 
as  certainly  the  results  of  gluttony,  as  of  the  more  active 
vices.  The  devotion  of  the  English  to  eating  is  an  ex 
crescence  upon  their  national  character,  which,  like  the 
carbuncles  on  Bardolph's  nose,  makes  it  hideous  and  glar 
ing.  Its  presence  disfigures  their  more  serious  literature, 
and  it  unpleasantly  protrudes  itself  from  their  romance. 
Their  modern  poets  condescend  to  describe  sumptuous  re 
pasts  with  the  technical  minuteness  of  a  pastry-cook ;  and 
their  best  novelists  are  vain  of  their  knowledge  in  the  culi 
nary  art.  Their  fairy  tales  are  always  crowded  with  ogres, 
who  eat  hugely  and  drink  well.  And  the  romance  of 
chivalry  is  outraged  by  having  greasy  thoughts  of  dinner 
lugged  in  on  King  Arthur's  round  table. 

Nothing  is  too  heroic  or  too  refined  to  be  associated  in 
their  minds  with  eating.  An  English  lover  is  never  so  sen 
timental  as  when  discussing  in  solitude  the  "  first  cut "  of 
a  "  hot  joint."  He  plies  his  lady-love  with  doughnuts  in 
stead  of  flowers,  and  believes  there  is  no  bridal  present  like 
something  good  to  eat ;  he  brings  her  a  cornucopia  of  choco 
late  drops  as  much  more  provocative  of  sentiment  than  a  copy 
of  Lalla  Rookh ;  he  has  no  anxiety  to  discover  her  taste  in 
poetry,  but  is  intensely  curious  as  to  what  she  prefers  to  eat ; 
congeniality  of  soul  is  never  sought  for  in  their  fondness 
for  the  same  music,  but  is  developed  by  their  devotion  to 
the  same  dish.  He  never  asks  if  she  admires  Donizetti's 
compositions,  but  tenderly  inquires  if  she  loves  beef-steak 
pies. 

This  sordid  vice  of  greediness  is  rapidly  brutalizing  na 
tures  not  originally  spiritual.  Every  other  passion  is  sink 
ing,  oppressed  by  flabby  folds  of  fat,  into  helplessness.  All 
the  mental  energies  are  crushed  beneath  the  oily  mass.  Sen 
sibility  is  smothered  in  the  feculent  steams  of  roast  beef,  and 


244  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

delicacy  stained  by  the  wasto  drippings  of  porter.  The 
brain  is  slowly  softening  into  blubber,  and  the  liver  is  gra 
dually  encroaching  upon  the  heart.  All  the  nobler  impulses 
of  man  are  yielding  to  those  animal  propensities,  which  must 
soon  render  Englishmen  beasts  in  all  save  form  alone. 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  245 


CHAPTEE   VIII. 

ENGLISH  GENTILITY. 

JT  has  been   declared  in  England,  that  as  a  nation,  our 
manners  are  unformed  :  indeed  that  we  have  none.     I 
certainly  consider  it  much  more  desirable  to  be  without  any, 
than  to  have  such   as  every  man  who  pretends  to  be  a  gen 
tleman  should  hasten  to  get  rid  of. 

Both  civilized  and  barbarous  nations  have  united  in 
considering  certain  pleasing  little  forms  essentially  necessary 
to  the  preservation  of  society.  We  have  all  felt,  and  are 
familiar  with  the  charm  of  politeness,  and  yet  few  of  us 
could  describe  in  what  it  really  consists.  I  have  yielded  to 
the  influence  of  this  nameless  fascination  in  my  intercourse 
with  French,  Germans,  and  Italians ;  I  have  observed  its 
action  among  Greeks,  Turks,  and  the  wild  Bedouins  of  the 
desert,  but  I  have  sought  in  vain  to  discover  its  existence 
among  the  English.  They  seem  to  glory  in  disregarding  the 
rules  which  the  politer  portions  of  the  world  have  agreed 
upon  adopting.  But  not  satisfied  with  banishing  all  graces 
of  manner,  they  unceasingly  labor  to  suppress  those  natural 
instincts  which  teach  the  swarthy  sons  of  the  desert  to  be 
courteous,  and  the  North  American  Indians  to  be  polite. 
They  are  terrified  by  the  flunky  apprehension,  that  being 
polite  might  render  them  liable  to  the  suspicion  of  imitating 
the  French,  whereas  they  are  eager  to  appear  peculiarly 
English.  In  their  ignoble  ambition  to  stand  alone,  they 


246  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

have  succeeded  in  making  the  name  of  Englishman  synony 
mous  with  almost  every  term  of  reproach  in  the  language, 
among  the  mildest  of  which  may  be  numbered  those  of  glut 
ton  and  blackguard.  They  have  become  odious  in  their 
anxiety  to  be  unique  ;  and  I  doubt  whether  a  single  indivi 
dual  could  be  found,  from  Paris  to  Constantinople,  who 
would  not  indignantly  deny  the  imputation  of  possessing  a 
single  social  quality  in  common  with  an  Englishman.  The 
nation  seem  deluded  into  the  belief  that  their  violations  of 
decorum  are  evidences  of  independence,  and  really  appear  to 
hope  that  brutality  can  be  mistaken  for  bravery.  They  are 
not  ashamed  to  acknowledge,  that  money  or  fear  can  induce 
them  to  do  little  things,  contributing  to  the  enjoyment  of 
others,  which,  though  costing  them  nothing,  they  would 
never  dream  of  performing  from  a  polite  desire  to  oblige. 
An  Englishman  can  be  forced  or  paid  to  do  any  thing ;  he 
may  be  coaxed  to  do  nothing.  Rank  or  money  applied  to 
his  impenetrable  shell  of  sullen  reserve  produces  the  same 
effect  as  a  coal  of  fire  placed  on  the  back  of  an  obstinate  ter 
rapin  ;  the  application  invariably  occasions  in  both  instances 
a  display  of  awkward  animation  very  unusual  in  the  animals. 
It  would  be  difficult  in  circumnavigating  the  globe,  to 
discover  a  nation  presenting  so  much  that  is  peculiar,  and  so 
little  that  is  attractive,  as  the  English.  Outre  in  dress,  re 
pulsive  in  manners,  and  selfish  in  nature,  they  have  with 
drawn  themselves  into  an  unsympathizing  seclusion  from  the 
rest  of  the  world.  Yet  each  self-conceited  Englishman  is 
proud  of  his  isolation,  and  exults  in  his  surliness.  He  has 
peopled  the  social  solitude  which  his  selfishness  has  made, 
with  cheering  illusions  of  his  own  superiority.  lie  knows 
no  ties  of  .sympathy,  arid  has  no  friends  ;  but  each  lonely  ego 
tist  gloats  over  the  belief,  that  the  universe  contains  no  associ 
ates  worthy  of  his  excellence.  He  sees  that  all  the  world 
shuns  him,  and  he  fondly  imagines  that  he  hascul  the  world. 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  24*7 

The  English  people  render  themselves  ridiculous  by  as 
suming  airs  that  but  ill  accord  with  a  stockish  nature.  In 
affecting  the  noble  they  succeed  in  being  simply  arrogant, 
and  are  morose  when  they  would  be  considered  exclusive ; 
in  attempting  to  appear  complaisant,  they  are  always  super 
cilious,  and  never  fail  to  be  rude  when  trying  to  seem  free 
and  easy.  Yet  they  imagine  the  universe  to  be  deeply  im 
pressed  by  the  graceful  sublimity  of  their  deportment.  They 
affect  an  eccentricity  of  costume,  as  most  becoming  the  soli 
tary  elevation  of  their  position.  Whether  in  the  unusually 
scant  habiliments  in  which  they  array  themselves,  they  are 
desirous  of  imitating  as  nearly  as  possible,  the  costumes  of 
their  ancestors  about  the  time  of  Caesar's  invasion,  or  whe 
ther  they  have  simply  made  the  most  of  their  cloth.  I  know 
not,  but  certain  it  is  that  their  prominent  peculiarities  of 
dress  and  disposition  are  in  admirable  accord.  Hat  and 
head  tendencies  may  be  pronounced  decidedly  sharp.  Collar 
and  general  bearing,  stiff,  awkward,  and  unbending.  Cravat 
and  pretensions,  very  ample.  Vest  and  regions  about  the 
heart,  exceedingly  contracted.  Coat  ample,  but  short ;  indi 
cative  of  their  lavish  expenditure  upon  their  own  persons, 
but  the  extremely  limited  distance  their  liberality  ever  ex 
tends  beyond.  Pants  very  full  about  the  seat  and  waist,  to 
match  their  great  natural  advantages  for  prolonged  sittings, 
and  vast  accommodations  for  extra  supplies  of  food  ;  but  the 
pants  about  the  legs  very  tight,  in  accordance  with  the  ex 
treme  closeness  of  his  disposition,  and  natural  aversion  to 
waste,  whether  in  cloth  or  shillings.  His  shoes  and  move 
ments,  to  sum  the  matter  up,  are  always  thick,  heavy,  and 
clumsy. 

An  Englishman  cannot  escape  the  hallucinations  pecu 
liar  to  folly  in  seclusion.  People  shrink  from  him  in  dis 
gust,  and  his  vanity  ascribes  their  conduct  to  a  becoming 
awe  for  his  pre-eminence ;  he  imagines  the  silence  which  arises 


248  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

from  contempt  to  be  a  deferential  respect  for  his  opinion  ; 
he  mistakes  sneers  for  smiles  of  approval,  and  believes  in 
stinctive  repugnance  to  his  person  to  be  a  reluctance  to  in 
trude  upon  his  reserve.  Indeed  he  entertains  too  exalted 
an  opinion  of  himself,  to  doubt  another's  appreciation  of  his 
surpassing  excellence.  lie  can  comfortably  ascribe  any 
course  of  conduct  to  some  feeling  flattering  to  himself 

We  could  forgive  the  absence  of  all  politeness  in  an  Eng 
lishman,  if  there  was  one  single  generous  quality  to  redeem 
his  incivility.  We  could  not  anticipate  much  gentleness 
from  the  most  affectionate  toyings  of  the  hippopotamus,  nor 
could  we  reasonably  expect  any  great  display  of  elegance  in 
the  manners  of  an  Englishman,  however  affable  he  might 
endeavor  to  make  them.  We  often  smilingly  submit  to  the 
most  serious  annoyances,  when  we  feel  convinced  that  they 
proceed  from  no  evil  intention  on  the  part  of  those  who  in 
flict  them.  Roughness  of  manner  no  more  indicates  an  un 
kind  disposition,  than  servility  evinces  a  polished  mind. 
And  if  an  Englishman  was  the  same  thing  to  all  people,  charity 
might  attribute  his  brutal  effrontery  to  hardy  ignorance ; 
or  partiality  might  ascribe  his  total  disregard  of  every 
precept  practised  by  a  gentleman,  to  bluff  independence. 
But  he  is  as  sensitive  to  the  influence  of  a  title,  as  a  high- 
strung  instrument  to  the  touch  of  its  performer.  A  close 
observer  may  always  determine  the  position  of  a  man  with 
whom  he  is  conversing,  by  the  tone  in  which  he  addresses 
him.  In  taking  him  through  the  gamut  of  behavior  it  will 
be  discovered  that  he  sounds  A  natural  with  the  same  facility 
as  Gr  sharp.  Insolent  and  overbearing  to  his  inferiors,  rude 
and  laconic  in  his  intercourse  with  those  he  considers  equals, 
but  softly  cringing  to  persons  above  him,  tortured  catgut 
itself,  scraped  by  a  skilful  hand,  cannot  give  utterance  to 
tones  more  various.  The  harsh  twang  of  the  wired  chord, 
the  growling  discord  of  the  middle  string,  and  the  soft  whin- 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  249 

ing  of  the  treble,  are  all  uttered  by  him  as  if  each  one  was 
his  own  especial  note.  No  man  professes  to  entertain  a 
more  punctilious  regard  for  etiquette,  in  all  its  minutest 
ramifications,  than  an  Englishman.  His  clothes  are  con 
structed  on  angles.  His  manners  are  apparently  regulated 
by  the  square  rule.  For  the  most  elaborate  laws  upon  the 
refinements  of  society,  a  stranger  may  safely  consult  Eng 
lish  books ;  for  their  grossest  violations,  he  may  be  referred 
to  the  English  themselves.  They  attempt  to  preserve  the 
letter,  whilst  they  sacrifice  the  spirit  of  their  written  code  of 
gentility.  An  Englishman's  ethics  consist  in  seeming  not  be 
ing.  His  career  in  society  is  a  laborious  attempt  to  deceive, 
a  noisy  parade  of  what  he  does  not  possess.  His  feelings  are 
professedly  influenced  by  the  dictates  of  a  refinement  he  can 
not  appreciate.  His  manners  are  formed  on  principles  he  does 
not  understand.  His  existence  is  made  up  of  ponderous  for 
malities,  full  of  pretension,  and  signifying  nothing. 

Among  the  numerous  passengers  of  the  steamer  return 
ing  home,  was  an  interesting  young  sprig  of  nobility — an 
Honorable  Mr.  Somebody,  the  eldest  son  of  Lord  Some 
thing,  as  an  Englishman  patronizingly  informed  me  one  day, 
immediately  after  he  had  enjoyed  the  honor  of  proffering  a 
light  for  the  honorable  young  gentleman's  cigar.  He  looked, 
and  was  dressed  precisely  like  ninety-nine  out  of  every  hun 
dred  Englishmen  one  meets  in  travelling.  He  was  pursy  in 
person,  and  very  red  in  the  face ;  he  had  short  bushy 
whiskers,  and  parted  his  hair  behind,  brushing  it  forward 
with  the  utmost  particularity.  He  wore  the  universal  gray 
check,  and  sported  a  very  small  cap,  and  very  large  shoes. 
His  near  approach  to  a  title  made  it  incumbent  on  him,  I 
presume,  to  maintain  a  mysterious  reserve  to  the  passengers ; 
but  he  favored  the  captain,  for  hours  together,  with  what 
seemed  most  eloquent  discourse.  That  delighted  function 
ary  would  then  devote  the  balance  of  the  day  to  retailing  to 
11* 


250  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

every  one  who  would  listen  to  him,  the  various  profound 
observations  this  remarkable  young  man  had  been  pleased 
to  make.  Although  he  indulged  in  the  easy  dishabille,  or 
dinarily  affected  by  cockney  tourists,  he  never  omitted  to 
make  a  grand  toilette  for  dinner.  He  lounged  about  all 
day  in  his  check  suit,  but  he  always  appeared  just  before 
eight  bells,  in  the  afternoon,  rigged  out  in  black  dress-coat, 
white  cravat,  and  white  kid  gloves,  as  if  he  had  been  invited 
to  a  dinner-party.  He  was  invariably  the  earliest  at  the 
table,  and  the  latest  to  leave  it.  And  when  he  did  leave  it, 
it  was  a  remarkable  fact  that  he  always  demanded  of  his 
friend  the  captain,  "  if  there  was  not  more  sea  on  :"  the  ship 
appeared  to  roll  so  confoundedly,  he  found  it  difficult  to 
keep  his  legs  without  the  support  of  the  captain's  arm.  A 
man  who  ate  and  drank,  as  he  habitually  did,  could  hardly 
expect  to  reserve  much  room  for  breath,  and  he  was  conse 
quently  nervously  anxious  about  the  proper  ventilation  of 
the  ship,  as  the  supply  of  air  he  was  able  to  keep  on  hand 
was  necessarily  limited.  We  were  off  the  Banks  of  New 
foundland,  and  it  was — as  it  always  is  even  in  summer — 
bitterly  cold,  and  very  uncomfortable.  The  passengers  all 
looked  blue  and  were  shivering  at  the  table  in  their  over 
coats  ;  but  the  Honorable  young  man  looked  as  red,  and 
perspired  as  freely,  as  if  he  had  been  roasting  eggs  in  the 
crater  of  Vesuvius.  He  insisted  upon  having  his  window 
opened  to  its  utmost  extent,  regardless  of  the  chilled  condi 
tion  of  his  neighbors.  Opposite  him  sat  a  lady  evidently  in 
extremely  bad  health,  who  coughed  almost  incessantly ;  and 
so  injurious  to  her  was  the  piercing  wind  blowing  in  at  the 
window,  that  her  husband  ordered  a  waiter  to  close  it.  The 
man  of  the  roseate  visage  instantly  opened  it  again,  and  looked 
around  with  a  frowning  stare,  meant  to  inquire  who  had  had 
the  audacity  to  give  orders  in  his  presence.  The  husband 
of  the  sick  lady  then  sent  the  waiter  to  him,  with  a  polite 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  251 

request  that  he  would  allow  the  window  to  be  closed,  as  he 
apprehended  his  wife  might  suffer  seriously  from  the  effects 
of  it.  Without  ceasing  to  cram  his  mouth,  he  informed 
the  waiter,  it  would  perhaps  be  advisable  for  him  not  to 
"bother"  about  that  window  any  more.  The  gentleman 
then  rose  himself,  walked  across  the  saloon  to  the  rubicund 
son  of  a  Lord,  and,  with  the  greatest  suavity  of  manner,  ex 
plained  to  him  the  critical  situation  of  his  wife,  and  begged 
of  him,  for  her  sake,  to  permit  the  window  to  be  shut.  Then 
the  Honorable  did  look  up  from  his  plate,  but  briefly  re 
plied,  with  his  mouth  full,  that  he  could  not  consent  to  be 
suffocated  though  his  wife  was  sick.  The  lady  retired — but 
this  worthy  representation  of  English  nobility  continued  to 
stuff  and  swill  till  his  shirt  collar,  which  seemed  a  sort  of 
thermometer  of  the  degree  of  spirituous  heat  to  which  he 
subjected  himself,  ominously  drooped,  warning  him  of  the 
maudlin  state  to  which  strong  potations  had  reduced  him. 
The  English  people,  who  have  declared  the  deference  shown 
to  females  in  America  to  be  very  vulgar,  would  probably  con 
sider  such  conduct  spirited,  and  worthy  of  applause.  But  I 
do  not  doubt  that  every  American  will  agree  with  me  that  it 
was  more  than  contemptible,  and  richly  deserved  a  kicking. 
His  scrupulous  regard  for  his  toilette  only  rendered  his 
rudeness  more  conspicuous.  We  were  prepared  to  expect 
better  things  from  a  man  who  sported  such  evidences  of  a 
cultivated  taste.  The  proof  he  presented  in  his  dress,  of 
his  having  at  least  a  vague  idea  of  what  is  becoming  in  a 
gentleman,  deprived  him  of  the  single  apology  for  his  con 
duct  that  innocent  ignorance  might  have  afforded  him.  He 
deemed  it  due  the  position  of  a  son  of  an  English  nobleman 
to  appear  daily  at  the  dinner-table  in  a  dress-coat,  white 
cravat  and  white  kid  gloves,  but  he  considered  it  no  stain  on 
the  title  of  his  father  for  him  to  refuse  so  simple  a  request 
to  an  invalid  lady.  His  code  of  manners  prescribed,  with 


252  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

rigid  particularity,  the  style  of  dress,  but  said  nothing,  ap« 
parently,  of  what  is  due  the  other  sex.  According  to  its 
sage  refinements,  it  would  be  considered  an  outrage  for  a 
man,  not  in  full  dress,  to  appear  at  dinner-table,  but  he  is 
permitted  to  insult  with  impunity  a  sick  woman — and  his 
conduct  is  applauded  as  a  proof  of  manly  spirit.  A  beau 
tiful  code  !  A  worthy  people  !  to  profess  to  be  the  most 
refined  nation  of  this  enlightened  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  They  are  a  huge  sham ;  an  elaborately  ruffled 
"  dickey  ;"  a  bladder  of  ostentatious  emptiness. 

That  people,  like  the  English,  should  regard  gloves  and 
a  dress-coat  essential  to  gentility,  does  not  appear  remark 
able,  but  it  does  seem  very  extraordinary  that  they  should 
believe  them  its  sole  elements.  They  constitute  without 
doubt  the  garb  in  which  it  ordinarily  clothes  itself — but 
surely  politeness  is  the  spirit  which  quickens  gentility  into 
the  charms  of  life.  When  the  vital  spark  is  wanting,  the  gay 
habiliments  it  wears  whilst  living,  only  render  the  ghastly 
corpse  the  more  disgusting.  It  is  like  arraying  a  festering 
inmate  of  the  dead-house  for  a  ball.  Fashionable  articles 
of  dress  prepare  us  for  a  courtesy  whose  absence  is  more 
keenly  felt;  as  the  sight  of  an  empty  fireplace,  on  a  cold  day, 
makes  us  shiver  by  reminding  us  of  a  fire. 

But  his  indulgent  countrymen  might  offer  many  very 
plausible  excuses  for  the  ill-mannerly  stubbornness  of  this 
very  honorable  gentleman.  In  the  first  place — among  men 
by  whom  white  kid  gloves  and  a  dress-coat  arc  esteemed 
such  irresistible  evidences  of  superior  breeding,  their  fortu 
nate  wearer  might  have  been  justly  indignant  that  any  one 
should  presume  to  address  him  without  having  previously 
enjoyed  the  honor  of  an  introduction.  It  might  have  been 
considered  proper  for  the  husband  of  the  sick  lady  to  have 
first  gone  to  the  captain,  and  begged  to  be  presented  to  the 
distinguished  young  man,  before  he  ventured  to  ask  so  im- 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  253 

portant  a  favor  as  the  closing  of  a  window  when  the  thor 
mometer  was  little  above  the  freezing  point. 

Besides,  immense  importance  is  attached  in  England  to 
the  amplitude  and  stiffness  of  a  neckcloth — incalculable  in 
fluence  lurks  in  its  tie.  And  an  Honorable  might  havo 
considered  it  degrading  to  the  dignity  of  a  white  cravat  to 
sacrifice  his  rights  as  a  passenger  to  the  whims  of  a  sick 
woman.  He  had  certainly  paid  his  money,  and  thereby 
purchased  as  maintainable  a  pre-emption  on  the  windows  as 
any  single  individual  on  board.  Then,  too,  he  was  a  son  of 
a  Lord. 

No  people  have,  in  the  organization  of  their  government 
and  society,  submitted  to  greater  impositions  than  the 
English.  Immeasurable  awe  of  their  oppressors  makes 
them  silent  under  public  oppressions.  But  selfishness  has 
made  them  such  inflexible  asserters  of  the  most  trivial  per 
sonal  privileges,  that  they  are  justly  regarded  as  nuisances 
on  every  steamboat  and  railroad  on  which  they  happen  to  be 
passengers.  After  the  surrender  of  all  the  rights  that 
humanity  holds  dearest — and  the  loss  of  every  privilege 
that  manhood  should  defend,  they  render  themselves  ridicu 
lous  by  their  watchfulness  over  those  that  only  old  women 
should  deem  worthy  of  preservation.  With  them,  the  loca 
tion  of  an  umbrella,  or  the  arrangement  of  a  hat-box,  are 
matters  of  tremendous  import.  These  are  the  proud  prero 
gatives  for  which  they  battle — these  are  the  glorious  rights 
they  defend.  In  the  protection  of  these  precious  advantages, 
every  social  compromise  and  genial  feeling  are  forgotten. 
The  ferocious  determination  with  which  they  maintain  them, 
puts  to  flight  the  spirit  of  accommodation — and  they  would 
not,  for  all  the  women  in  Christendom,  abate  of  them  one 
tittle,  unless  some  more  powerful  incentive  could  be  offered, 
than  the  mere  fact  of  their  being  of  the  gentler  sex. 

Our  aristocratic  young  cockney  might  have  apprehended, 


254  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

like  a  veritable  flunky,  soiling  his  immaculate  kids  by  doing 
a  favor  for  an  unknown  individual  who  did  not  sport  the 
same  indispensable  badges  of  gentility.  For  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  the  true  reason  of  his  rudeness  was,  that  he 
dreaded  the  possibility  of  compromising  his  own  position. 
and  that  of  his  noble  family  at  home,  by  obliging  an  ordi 
nary  sort  of  person.  What  means  had  he  of  ascertaining 
her  rank  in  society?  'Tis  true, her  manners  and  appearance 
were  those  of  a  lady — but  appearances  are  deceitful — and 
she  might  have  been  some  mechanic's  wife,  which  would  have 
caused  his  friends  in  England  to  quiz  him  a  little  about 
having  been  "sold."  Besides,  what  possible  claim  could  she 
have  on  him  ?  He  did  not  know  her,  and  could  therefore 
derive  no  benefit  from  inconveniencing  himself  on  her  account. 
Had  she  been  reputed  rich,  or  noble,  no  one  who  has  ever 
been  in  England,  could  doubt  his  alacrity  to  oblige  her.  The 
remote  prospect  of  future  possible  advantage  would  have 
justified,  in  his  eyes,  any  ordinary  sacrifice.  But  could  he 
have  claimed  the  honor  of  a  bow  from  a  lady,  who  was  known 
to  be  rich,  or  noble,  he  would  have  smilingly  endured  pro 
longed  suffocation,  rather  than  have  seen  her  lapdog  shiver. 
Hot,  but  eager,  he  would  have  vowed  in  an  agony  of  short 
gasps,  what  infinite  honor  he  considered  it,  to  be  able  to 
manifest  his  deep  respect  for  her  ladyship's  slightest  wish. 
And  after  the  infliction  had  passed,  he  would  have  embraced 
the  earliest  opportunity  afforded  by  the  recovery  of  his 
wind,  to  express  to  her  ladyship  the  hope,  that  her  ladyship's 
charming  little  pet  had  suffered  no  inconvenience  during  the 
gusty  weather  of  the  previous  afternoon.  To  us,  among 
whom  a  lady  always  receives  the  deference  due  the  sex, 
whether  she  happens  to  be  a  stranger,  or  an  acquaintance — 
ricli  or  poor — such  reflections  must  seem  somewhat  extra 
ordinary — but  they  are,  nevertheless,  eminently  English. 
Prudent  as  ho  is  by  nature — economical  and  penurious 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  255 

in  all  his  habits,  as  education  has  made  him,  there  is  no 
outlay  an  Englishman  makes  more  reluctantly,  than  that  of 
politeness.  He  often-  invests  it,  'tis  true,  but  always  cautious 
ly  and  with  hopes  of  usurious  interest.  Gratuitous  displays, 
like  his  other  charities,  are  but  rarely  indulged  in.  He  may 
perhaps  be  somewhat  excusable  upon  the  principle  that 
where  little  has  been  given,  not  much  ought  to  be  required. 
He  has  certainly  not  been  endued  with  so  large  a  supply  of 
the  article  as  to  be  at  all  lavish  in  its  expenditure.  Being 
conscious.  I  suppose,  of  his  deficiency,  he  reserves  his  polite 
ness,  as  he  does  his  best  wines,  which  are  only  to  be  served 
when  he  is  honored  by  the  presence  of  his  betters.  He 
deems  it  a  reprehensible  degree  of  wastefulness  to  display 
either,  except  on  extraordinary  occasions.  His  civility  is, 
consequently,  like  the  Sunday-clothes  of  a  man,  who  only 
indulges  once  a  week  in  the  luxury  of  a  clean  shirt — and  sits 
ill  upon  him.  His  smile  of  welcome  fades  into  servility, 
and  his  attempts  at  good-humored  cordiality  dwindle  into 
obsequiousness. 

In  venturing  among  the  various  tribes  of  semi-barbarians, 
that  they  appear  to  think  inhabit  the  different  States  of 
America,  Englishmen  find  it  convenient  to  leave  behind 
them  the  unwieldy  mass  of  formalities,  by  which  they  have 
been  all  their  lives  oppressed — and  generally  come  among 
us  in  the  undisguised  nakedness  of  their  vulgarity.  Wholly 
freed  from  the  restraints  imposed  upon  them  at  home  by  the 
different  grades  in  society,  they  indolently  luxuriate  in  the 
inherent  brutality  of  their  nature.  They  constantly  violate 
not  only  all  rules  of  decorum,  but  the  laws  of  decency  itself, 
with  the  apparent  belief  that  we  know  no  better  than  to 
submit  to  it.  They  abuse  our  hospitality — insult  our  pecu 
liar  institutions — set  at  defiance  all  the  refinements  of  life, 
and  return  home  lamenting  the  social  anarchy  of  America, 
and  retailing  their  own  indecent  conduct  as  the  ordinary 


256  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

customs  of  the  country.  They  will  invite  themselves  into 
private  houses — go  to  an  elegant  ball  in  soiled  overcoats — 
take  liberties  with  perfect  strangers  by  a  minute  catechism, 
that  they  would  not  dare  to  venture  on  in  England — and 
then  abuse  us  as  aspiring  savages,  utterly  ignorant  of  the 
most  ordinary  usages  of  society.  But  the  cool  assurance  with 
which  they  attempt  to  patronize  us  as  inferiors — and  the 
intrepidity  with  which  they  do  the  most  outrageous  things, 
ceases  to  appear  so  remarkable,  when  it  is  remembered  how 
many  there  are  among  us  who  believe,  with  these  upstart 
cockneys,  that  a  titled  Englishman  could  do  nothing,  and  an 
ordinary  cit  very  little,  that  might  be  justly  objected  to  as 
low-bred,  or  indecent.  According  to  such  people,  if  an 
Englishman  is  insulting  in  his  familiarity,  he  only  means  to 
show  us  republicans  that  he  is  not  proud  of  his  superiority 
— if  he  is  rude  to  a  lady,  he  only  means  to  be  playful — if 
he  is  impertinent  to  a  man,  'tis  only  a  way  they  have  in 
England.  These  anglicized  Americans  will  insist  that  a 
Briton  can  do  no  wrong.  lie  may  revile  our  country,  and 
yet  be  guilty  of  nothing  more  than  a  little  innocent  badinage. 
He  may  perpetrate  the  most  startling  offences  against  re 
finement — and  yet  he  does  it  all  in  his  laudable  anxiety  to 
be  sufficiently  supercilious  and  condescending  to  the  obliging 
toadies  who  surround  him.  His  clumsy  attacks  upon  his 
entertainers  pass  for  wit — his  scurrilous  abuse  of  Americans 
is  declared  to  be  sarcasm — and  an  insufferable  blackguard  is 
ingeniously  metamorphosed  into  an  elegant  gentleman  by 
these  degenerate  Americans,  who  only  require  the  livery  to 
render  them  such  admirable  lackeys,  that  even  their  English 
friends  might  approve  their  servility.  An  Englishman,  who 
arrives  in  America,  is  generally  beset  by  just  such  despicable 
specimens  of  freemen,  who  consider  any  Englishman  greatly 
preferable  as  a  companion  to  the  most  accomplished  American 
gentlemen.  And  so  long  as  such  unworthy  sons  of  our 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  257 

Republic  are  permitted  to  infest  unpunished  our  larger  cities, 
so  long  will  our  whole  nation  be  confounded  with  these  strag 
gling  renegades.  When  these  Britons  are  surrounded  by 
such  fellows,  eager  to  submit  to  every  indignity,  and  receive 
any  insult  to  enjoy  the  advantage  of  their  society,  they  would 
surprise  one  if  they  did  not  presume  upon  the  supposed  ob 
sequiousness  of  the  nation.  These  American  flunkies  are 
thus  instrumental  in  involving  their  entire  country  in  their 
own  degradation.  They  ought  to  be  mounted  upon  the 
pillar  of  infamy,  like  the  bankrupt  merchants  of  Venice  in 
old  times, 

"  for  the  hand  of  scorn 

To  point  his  slow  unmoving  finger  at" 

It  should  be  the  duty  of  every  good  citizen  to  revile  them. 
They  ought  to  be  denounced  in  every  newspaper,  and  hooted 
by  every  crowd,  till  they  were  convinced  that  the  simple 
dignity  of  an  American  citizen  was  somewhat  preferable  to 
playing  the  snubbed  serving-man  to  any  Lord  in  England. 

During  my  first  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  we  had  on 
board  the  old  Caledonia  two  rich  London  merchants  and 
West  India  sugar-planters,  who  had  been  out  to  the  West 
Indies  to  endeavor  if  possible  to  relieve  their  estates  from 
the  ruinous  effects  of  the  general  emancipation  of  slaves. 
The  elder  gentleman  kept  a  journal  filled  with  absurd  com 
plaints  of  America,  but  containing  much  valuable  statistical 
information  respecting  omnibus  fares  up  and  down  Broad- 
wa^  —the  comparative  expense  of  boot-blacking  in  the  differ- 
fc^..  ci.ies  in  the  Union  ;  and  the  price  of  every  ride  and  every 
meal  the  gentlemen  had  taken  during  their  sojourn  in  Ame 
rica.  After  having  advanced  every  possible  objection  to  the 
country  and  the  people,  he  went  on  to  state  that  "  Niagara 
was  no  great  things  after  all ;  that  he  had  seen  infinitely 
finer  waterfalls  in  Scotland  or  Wales — that  the  Americans 


258  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

made  '  a  great  blow '  about  Niagara,  but  that  he  had  dis 
covered  more  water  in  a  little  book  that  he  had  paid  six 
pence  for,  than  he  had  been  able  to  find  at  their  boasted 
'falls.'"  "We  might  place  a  just  estimate  upon  this  grum 
bling  tourist's  opinions  of  America  and  Americans,  from 
this  objection  of  his  to  the  greatest  wonder  of  the  Western 
Hemisphere.  Had  he  found  fault  with  the  grandeur  of  the 
Falls — the  picturesqueness  of  the  scenery  ;  had  their  height 
or  shape  not  suited  him,  there  would  have  been  some  plausi 
bility  in  his  objection  ;  but  to  complain  of  the  quantity  of 
water  tumbling  into  the  river  below,  exposed  at  once  the 
absurdity  of  the  man,  coming  to  our  country  resolved  to  dis 
approve  of  all  he  saw.  So  successful  however  had  this 
gentleman  been  in  the  management  of  his  diary,  and  so 
eager  was  he  to  read  it  in  detail  to  every  passenger  on  board, 
that  he  was,  soon  after  our  sailing  from  port,  dubbed  Mr. 
JPzps.  His  friend,  who  affectionately  followed  him  about, 
listened  to  him  as  an  oracle,  and  kindly  offered  himself  as  a 
butt  for  his  witty  sayings,  was  familiarly  known  as  "  My 
Child."  One  day,  when  they  were  in  a  greater  gale  of  mer 
riment  than  ordinary  at  the  dinner-table,  ;:  Mr.  Pips  "  chal 
lenged  "  the  Child  "  to  mortal  combat,  in  a  chicken  fight. 
The  challenge  was  instantly  accepted,  the  fight  to  come  off 
immediately  after  dinner.  I  was  exceedingly  curious  to 
find  out  the  manner  of  proceeding  in  this  ';  chicken  fight ;" 
and  great  was  my  astonishment  when  I  discovered  that 
each  gentleman  sat  himself  down  on  the  deck,  and  clasped 
his  hands  over  his  knees,  that  were  drawn  up  as  much  under 
his  chin  as  possible.  His  wrists  were  in  this  position  se 
curely  tied  together,  and  a  strong  stick  run  through  the 
elbows,  and  under  the  knees,  completing  a  process  known 
among  boys  at  school  as  "bucking."  When  this  somewhat 
extraordinary  arrangement  was  completed  of  each  gentle 
man,  he  was  left  entirely  without  the  power  of  motion  ex 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  259 

eept  a  slight  spasmodic  movement  about  the  head  and  toes. 
The  sport  was,  when  the  two  were  placed  face  to  face,  for 
each  one  to  endeavor  to  insert  his  toes  under  the  soles  of 
the  other,  and  thereby  tumble  him  over  on  his  back,  when 
he  rolled  helplessly  till  his  "  bottle-holder  "  had  sufficiently 
recovered  from  his  laughter  to  pick  him  up. 

The  fearful  hum  of  preparation  is  heard  in  the  distance. 
Excited  men  and  anxious  women  crowd  the  cleared  deck. 
Every  thing  betokens  that  some  deed  of  dreadful  note  is  to 
be  done.  All  eyes  are  turned  towards  that  end  of  the  ship 
from  which  the  rival  combatants  are  to  issue  forth.  No 
word  is  spoken,  and  the  nervous  fidgeting  of  the  passengers 
alone  denotes  the  intensity  of  their  suspense.  At  last  the 
little  knots  of  particular  friends  appeared,  and  in  their  midst 
were  the  two  combatants  arrayed  for  battle.  Slowly  and  ma 
jestically  the  impatient  rivals  are  bumped  noiselessly  along 
the  deck  by  their  attendant  backers.  Their  eyes  gleam  daz- 
zlingly  upon  each  other,  as  they  approach.  Each  one  bears  his 
head  proudly  erect,  and  his  dilated  nostrils  seem  to  indicate 
that  the  souls  of  a  thousand  heroes  are  being  stirred  vio 
lently  within  him.  When  finally  prepared  for  their  work, 
each  ambitious  aspirant  to  Olympic  honors  sat  silent,  solid 
and  immovable  as  the  grim  statue  of  Memnon.  Indeed, 
however  sprightly  he  might  have  been  in  his  intentions,  a 
very  slight  distortion  about  the  head  and  toes  was  the  ut 
most  extent  of  locomotion,  of  which  he  was  capable.  They 
are  now  face  to  face.  During  one  awful  moment  they 
pause,  for  a  last  mighty  inhalation  of  breath  and  valor, 
when,  with  the  agility  of  the  lightning's  flash,  they  join  hos 
tile  toes,  as  angry  bulls  lock  horns,  and  at  once  the  promis 
cuous  skrimmage  begins.  Never  was  such  animation  among 
toes  witnessed  before ;  the  Highland  fling  was  a  minuet 
compared  to  it.  Such  scrambling  and  scrouging  —  such 
squirming  and  screwing  it  was  really  exhilarating  to  behold. 


260  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

The  unusual  exertions  of  the  untrained  champions  seem 
strangely  overcoming  to  both,  as  they  swell  and  grow  red 
like  turkey-cocks.  Their  fight  soon  demonstrated  the  fact, 
that  bottom  does  not  always  indicate  wind ;  for  however 
amply  endowed  each  gentleman  might  be  with  the  former, 
in  the  latter  he  was  not  long  in  showing  himself  lamentably 
deficient.  Brief  but  violent  was  the  conflict.  Each  corpu 
lent  champion  wheezed  like  an  overcharged  locomotive. 
"  Science  however  must  prevail."  The  right  foot  of  "  the 
Child,"  possessing  a  cunning  that  the  too  confident  "  Pips  " 
knew  not  of.  by  a  dexterous  flourish  suddenly  toppled  his 
puffing  opponent  from  his  centre  of  gravity.  Exhausted, 
the  ponderous  Pips  tumbled  upon  the  resounding  deck. 
Overthrown,  not  vanquished,  he  wildly  glared  upon  his  tri 
umphant  foe,  who  essayed  to  flap  his  pinioned  arms,  as  he 
loudly  crowed  in  exulting  mockery.  The  peculiar  manner 
of  doing  up  was  naturally  calculated  to  produce  a  consider 
able  stretch  both  of  hide  and  breeches.  And  when  by  the 
casualties  of  battle  a  champion  was,  like  a  cracked  dinner- 
pot,  turned  bottom  upwards,  with  both  skin  and  cloth  drawn 
tight  as  a  drum-head,  the  exposition  was  immense.  No  one, 
but  those  who  witnessed  it,  can  conceive  of  the  very  ludi 
crous  appearance  of  a  plump  middle-aged  gentleman,  tightly 
trussed  up  as  a  Christmas  goose,  and  convulsively  wallow 
ing  on  his  back.  He  afforded  an  "  aspect  "  as  unusual  and 
much  more  startling  than  that  presented  by  the  famous 
frizzled  chicken,  of  fabled  memory. 

Rolling  in  helpless  agony — deaf  to  the  jeers  of  the  by 
standers  at  the  absurdity  of  his  exposed  position — the  fallen 
combatant  is  only  eager  for  a  renewal  of  the  fray.  At  last 
his  convulsed  bottle-holder  so  far  recovered  the  command  of 
his  muscles  as  to  lift  him  first  into  a  sitting  position,  and 
then  bump  him  along  as  before,  till  within  reach  of  his  re 
joicing  foe,  when  they  again  joined  toes,  as  if  life  depended 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  261 

on  the  result.  Once  more  commences  the  shuffling  and 
scuffling,  the  rearing  and  pitching — each  gentleman  creating 
as  much  noise,  and  kicking  up  as  great  a  dust,  as  if  he  had 
been  miraculously  metamorphosed  into  a  centipede,  with  his 
hundred  feet,  instead  of  a  single  pair.  Fierce  continues  the 
doubtful  contest.  Black  and  turgid,  the  big  veins  start 
from  their  glowing  fronts.  Their  knotted  muscles  writhe 
and  twist  in  the  desperation  of  the  fearful  struggle.  Their 
sinews  crack,  and  nerves  quiver  in  that  tremendous  strain. 
Renewed  wriggling  and  twisting — sliding  and  slipping,  an 
nounce  the  intensity  of  their  final  efforts — when  the  swollen 
cheeks  and  protruding  eyes,  accompanied  by  the  shortening 
gasps  of  the  Child  seemed  ominous  of  his  approaching  fall. 
By  a  sudden  sleight,  the  toes  of  Pips  are  surreptitiously  in 
serted  under  the  weary  soles  of  the  Child,  whose  heels  un 
expectedly  salute  the  setting  sun.  Heavily  he  rolls  from 
side  to  side,  like  a  high-pooped  Dutch  brig  in  a  storm  ;  af 
fording  during  his  prostration,  to  the  curious  among  the 
spectators,  an  admirable  opportunity  for  studying  prominen 
ces,  which  are  certainly  not  laid  down  on  phrenological 
charts. 

The  laughter  again  subsiding,  the  Child  is  put  into  a 
fighting  position,  and  at  it  they  go,  as  if  this  was  but  the  be 
ginning  of  their  conflict.  The  assault  renewed,  encouraging 
acclamations  incite  the  flagging  foes.  The  noisy  bustle  once 
more  shakes  the  trembling  deck,  as  whirling,  twirling,  rum 
bling,  tumbling,  they  writhe  in  the  agony  of  their  struggles. 
Hot  and  furious  raged  the  combat.  The  laughing  cheers  of 
the  excited  spectators,  ringing  merrily  forth,  threw  the  labor 
ing  combatants  into  spasms  of  exertions,  still  more  terrible. 
Their  suppressed  breathing  and  clenched  teeth  told  of  the 
earnestness  of  their  endeavors.  As  regardless  of  "  all 
around,  above,  beneath,"  as  two  infuriated  ants  locked  in 
deadly  conflict — they  heave,  they  slide,  they  roll,  in  the  fight, 


262  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

frightening  women,  and  overturning  campstools,  in  the  vio 
lence  of  the  onset.  By  heaven  it  was  a  noble  sight  to  see  ' 
The  heroic  strife  of  these  valiant  Englishmen,  contending 
for  the  smiles  of  approving  beauty,  was  worthy  of  the  chival- 
ric  days  of  Britain.  I  feel  abashed  whilst  making  this  feeble 
record  of  their  exploits.  They  deserve  some  modern  Ho 
mer  to  sing  their  prowess,  and  embalm  in  Epic  verse  their 
fame.  The  story  of  their  deeds  should  become  a  part  of 
history ;  their  names  should  be  the  battle  cry  of  tho  Erring 
knights  of  every  cockpit  in  Christendom  ;  and  the  details  of 
this  dread  combat,  between  doughty  Pips  and  his  illustrious 
CJiild,  should  be  as  familiar  to  "  heeler  "  and  "  pitters  "  as 
the  cant  phrases  of  the  mug.  Frantic  were  still  the  efforts  of 
both.  But  the  invidious  God  of  battles  semcd  still  to  favor 
the  boastful  Pips.  The  Child  seemed  stricken  by  some  sud 
den  fear,  a  panic  crept  through  every  limb,  his  muscles  be 
came  relaxed ;  his  nerves  shook,  his  eyes  rolled  fearfully, 
and  he  would  have  fled  had  flight  been  possible.  Escape 
was  hopeless.  He  struggled  yet  awhile  feebly  on,  when 
again  he  rolled  at  the  feet  of  the  redoubtable  Pips.  A  hun 
dred  straining  throats  hail  the  victorious  hero,  whose  visage, 
resplendent  with  smiles  and  exertion,  beamed  forth  his 
thanks. 

Both  gentlemen  had  arrived  at  that  respectable  period 
of  life,  when  certain  corporeal  developments  become  rather 
prominent.  And  now  "  the  Child,"  with  his  bluntest  ex 
tremity  turned  towards  blushing  heaven  and  the  ladies,  ex 
hibited  a  portion  of  his  person,  which,  however  honorable  it 
may  be  deemed,  is  usually  considered  most  presentable,  when 
veiled  by  the  mysterious  folds  of  a  coat-tail.  But  it  may  be 
altogether  proper,  or  even  fashionable,  for  aught  I  know,  for 
gentlemen  in  England  to  make  these  somewhat  remarkable 
exhibitions  to  the  public.  All  this  may  have  been  English 
gentility,  indulging  in  a  little  ground  and  lofty  tumbling. 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  263 

merely  to  show  us  innocent  republicans,  that  the  thing  had 
joints,  and  could  sometimes  use  them — but  to  a  plain  man, 
like  myself,  it  seemed  much  more  like  what  I  should  now 
designate  as  the  quintessence  of  cockney  vulgarity.  Suppose 
that  during  the  tour  of  Mr.  Dickens  or  some  other  scribbling 
Englishman,  a  couple  of  our  western  pioneers  had  been  sud 
denly  seized  with  the  immodest  desire  of  exhibiting,  in  this 
extraordinary  way,  their  fair  proportions,  in  the  ladies' 
cabin  of  one  of  our  Southern  steamboats.  We  should  never 
have  heard  the  last  of  it.  It  would  have  been  heralded  from 
one  end  of  Europe  to  the  other,  as  irresistible  evidence  of 
the  vulgarity  of  the  American  character,  and  obscenity  of 
American  taste.  Even  the  heinous  crimes  of  spitting  and 
bolting  would  have  paled  into  petty  vices,  beside  this  fearful 
outrage  of  decency.  We  should  have  had  lengthy  disserta 
tions,  in  every  language  in  Europe,  upon  the  indecent  license 
of  American  manners.  Our  men  would  have  been  denounced 
as  devoid  of  all  modesty,  and  our  women  of  all  shame. 
English  journals  would  have  piously  regretted  the  fearful  in 
fluences  of  vice  and  corruption,  which  have  always  existed  in 
republics  ;  and  English  philanthropists  would  have  seriously 
debated  the  propriety  of  sending  out  missionaries  to  improve 
our  morals.  We  should  have  been  held  up  to  the  world  as 
a  warning  example  of  the  avenging  curse  of  heaven,  for  those 
twin  abominations,  slavery  and  democracy.  All  pious,  moral 
and  discreet  people  would  have  been  considerately  put  upon 
their  guard,  against  us  lawless  republicans.  They  would 
have  been  earnestly  warned  against  all  connection,  public  or 
private,  with  a  people,  whose  total  disregard  even  of  the 
decencies  of  life  make  them  such  dangerous  companions  for 
the  true  friends  of  law  and  order.  Our  influence  would  be 
deprecated,  our  society  shunned,  and  our  principles  con 
demned  as  inimical  to  all  that  good  men  love,  because  for- 


264  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

sooth,  a  couple  of  western  hunters  had  taken  it  into  their 
heads  to  make  an  exhibition,  which  it  seems  an  Englishman 
can  make  daily  without  exciting  either  surprise  or  comment. 
The  English  aristocracy  have  issued  their  edict,  which 
all  flunky  Americans  obey,  that  the  wearers  of  linsey-wool 
sey  and  broadcloth  can  have  nothing  in  common.  Their 
language  and  actions,  though  they  may  happen  to  be  identi 
cally  the  same,  are  placed  in  widely  different  categories. 
The  pranks,  which  in  a  backwoods  American  would  be  stig 
matized  as  shocking  obscenity,  become,  when  perpetrated  by 
a  rich  Englishman,  charming  evidences  of  sportive  humor. 
The  English  and  their  echoes  still  persist  in  reversing  the 
scriptural  precept,  and  always  judge  most  harshly  of  those, 
who  have  enjoyed  fewest  advantages.  A  backwoodsman  might 
do  something  offensive  to  refined  taste,  for  which  his  ignorance 
should  be  a  sufficient  apology.  But  these  illiberal  judges 
would  vituperate  him.  but  blandly  smile  upon  the  improprieties 
of  a  man,  whose  wealth  and  associations  in  society  ought  to 
have  taught  him  better.  In  a  western  American  "  the 
chicken  fight "  would  have  been  an  abomination ;  but  when 
enacted  by  a  rich  West  India  merchant,  and  planter,  it 
was  but  a  playful  acknowledgment  to  the  ladies  and  gentle 
men  on  board  the  steamer,  that  the  proportions  of  his  person 
had  not  materially  changed,  but  only  become  more  fully  de 
veloped  since  his  days  of  tight  breeches  and  round  jackets. 
From  the  American,  similarly  situated,  every  woman  should 
fly  in  blushing  confusion ;  but  any  lady,  who  should  have 
the  delicacy  to  feel  shocked  by  the  graceful  exposures  of  an 
English  Gentleman,  would  be  ridiculed  as  affecting  a  false 
modesty,  that  nobody  but  Americans  arc  guilty  of.  I  am 
not  very  familiar  with  the  science  of  anatomy,  and  there 
may  exist  a  sufficient  difference  between  the  conformation  of 
a  lean  pioneer,  and  a  corpulent  Englishman,  to  justify  the 


ENGLISH    GENTILITY.  265 

distinction  they  seem  inclined  to  make  in  favor  of  the  latter. 
And  the  English  may  very  probably  be  right,  in  supposing 
that  there  is  something  much  more  alarming  to  ladies  in  the 
angular  projections  of  a  lank  western  hunter,  than  in  the 
plump  proportions  of  one  of  their  own  beef-fed  countrymen. 


12 


266  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

OEIGIN  OF  THE  CIIUKCII  OF  ENGLAND. 

THE  high-churchmen,  always  great  sticklers  for  birth  and 
pedigree,  arc  somewhat  squeamish  as  to  the  origin  of  the 
Established  Church  of  England.  They  are  loath  to  attri 
bute  their  greatest  blessing  to  their  greatest  tyrant,  and 
would  fain  discover  in  the  various  excesses  of  the  old  reli 
gion,  the  causes  of  the  Reformation,  which  were  snugly 
stowed  away  in  that  bloated  budget  of  atrocities,  fat  Henry 
himself. 

If  there  be  any  of  that  importance  about  mere  origin, 
which  English  churchmen  are  eager  to  attach  to  it,  they 
may  be  somewhat  excusable,  perhaps,  for  their  solitary  be 
lief  in  their  own  infallibility.  The  Church  of  England  cer 
tainly  owes  its  existence  to  the  most  exalted  source,  and  has 
never  disgraced  its  lineage.  If  Henry  could  return  to  earth, 
he  would  have  no  reason  to  blush  for  the  degeneracy  of  his 
offspring.  It  has  always  borne  about  it  unmistakable  marks 
of  its  descent,  and  still  continues  to  practise  some  of  the  pe 
culiar  virtues  of  its  founder.  The  easy  indifference,  with 
which  the  earlier  primates  could  turn  from  the  terrible 
scenes  of  their  persecutions  to  the  touching  offices  of  religion, 
bears  a  startling  family  resemblance  to  the  indelicate  haste 
of  the  tyrant  in  marrying  Jane  Seymour,  the  day  after  th.e 
execution  of  Anne  Bullen,  when  the  latter  had  so  recently 
been  the  object  of  his  tenderest  solicitude.  Does  not  the 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND.  267 

malignity,  with  which  they  pursued  both  Puritans  and 
Catholics,  seem  but  the  reflection  of  Smithfield's  blazing 
fires,  which  Henry  kindled  alike  for  the  followers  of  Luther, 
and  the  adherents  of  the  Pope  ?  And  do  not  the  ostenta 
tious  regard  for  forms  and  the  hollow  ceremonies  of  the 
modern  Church,  the  fondness  of  its  ministers  for  display, 
and  their  eagerness  for  riches,  still  recall  some  of  the  promi 
nent  attributes  of  the  corpulent  Henry  1 

When  it  is  remembered  how  much  this  modern  Blue 
Beard  was  given  to  matrimony  and  extravagance,  it  no 
longer  continues  surprising  that  he  quarrelled  with  the 
Pope  in  order  to  take  unto  himself  a  new  wife,  and  that  he 
destroyed  the  monasteries  to  satisfy  his  avarice.  To  gratify 
his  old  passions,  and  acquire  the  means  of  indulging  new, 
was  too  much  in  accordance  with  Henry's  disposition  to  need 
any  ghostly  advisers  in  hurrying  on  the  Reformation.  Once 
commenced,  the  work  went  bravely  on.  The  dispute  with 
the  Pope,  begun  to  gratify  the  king's  love  of  Anne  Bullen, 
was  carried  to  extremities  to  gratify  His  Majesty's  love  of 
gold.  Rich  monasteries  were  pillaged.  Their  confiscated 
lands  were  divided  among  worthless  court  favorites — their 
treasures  squandered  in  idle  court  shows.  The  lazy  monks 
were  expelled — their  well-stocked  larders  destroyed — their 
saintly  images  broken — and  altars  overthrown*  Their  old 
tenants  were  loaded  with  heavier  tithes  to  support  a  new 
clergy,  who  hankering  more  after  lawn  and  lucre  than  venison, 
substituted  in  their  worship  the  king  for  the  Virgin  Mary,  and 
filled  up  the  calendar  of  abolished  saints  with  a  long  list  of 
their  titled  patrons. 

It  was  a  gloomy  omen  for  the  future  purity  and  tolera 
tion  of  the  Established  Church,  that  it  had  sprung  from  the 
lusts,  and  been  founded  in  the  rapacity  of  a  tyrant.  From 
such  a  beginning,  it  appears  but  natural,  that  bigotry  should 
color  its  doctrines,  and  persecution  mark  its  course.  It 


268  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

seemed  necessary  to  infect  it  with  every  species  of  worldll 
ness,  in  order  to  render  it  worthy  of  its  royal  progenitor, 
who  had  the  sacrilegious  audacity  to  clothe  his  vices  in  the 
holy  garb  of  religion,  and  to  make  his  conscience  the  vile 
pretext  for  a  viler  action.  The  divorce  from  Catherine, 
Henry  assures  us,  was  the  result  of  pious  alarm ;  his  having 
so  long  violated  a  canon  of  the  Church,  founded  on  the 
Levitical  law,  was  certainly  well  calculated  to  produce  it. 
But  during  the  eighteen  years  of  his  marriage  with  Queen 
Catherine  of  Arragon,  the  king's  scruples  had  comfortably 
remained  in  the  profoundest  slumber,  and  they  were  only 
awakened  with  love  for  Anne  Bullen.  It  is  surprising,  after 
so  long  a  nap,  how  amazingly  sprightly  His  Majesty's  con 
science  became.  Its  delicacy  and  refinement  may  be  justly 
estimated,  by  the  somewhat  prolonged  period  of  its  tor 
pidity. 

Had  Henry,  apart  from  all  religious  considerations,  been 
actuated  by  a  single  noble  impulse, — had  he  simply  rebelled 
against  the  encroaching  tyrannies  of  Rome,  or  only  attempt 
ed  to  curb  the  excesses  of  her  arrogant  priesthood,  the  origin 
of  the  High  Church  of  England  might  have  still  possessed 
something  of  that  nobility,  which  its  zealous  adherents  would 
fain  ascribe  to  it.  But  up  to  the  period  of  his  outbreak 
against  Rome,  no  prince  in  Christendom  had  appeared  more 
steadfast  in  his  devotion  to  the  Pope,  than  his  corpulent 
Majesty.  In  the  mildness  of  his  enthusiasm,  he  had  descend 
ed  from  his  kingly  dignity,  laid  aside  his  royal  robes,  and 
entered  the  public  ring  of  theological  wrangling  to  contend, 
in  behalf  of  the  Pope,  with  that  cunning  wrestler,  Martin 
Luther  himself.  The  rude  reformer  did  not  receive  him 
with  that  tender  consideration  that  a  royal  personage  might 
reasonably  have  expected  ;  but  though  he  richly  deserved  the 
rough  treatment  his  temerity  exposed  him  to,  his  zeal 
merited  all  the  "  mouth  honor"  conferred  on  him  at  the 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND.  269 

time.  And  after  having  been  publicly  complimented  by  the 
special  commendation  and  affection  of  the  Pope,  he  could 
sport  the  sonorous  title  of  "  Defender  of  the  Faith,"  with  the 
blushing  consciousness  of  having  won  it. 

After  the  eighteen  years  of  uninterrupted  connubial 
quiet  with  Catherine  of  Arragon,  the  king's  religious  scru 
ples  became  suddenly  alarmed  at  having  so  long  lived  in 
the  holy  estate  of  matrimony  with  a  brother's  widow.  Being 
at  last  awakened  to  the  enormity  of  his  crime,  it  was  but 
natural  that  a  tender  conscience  like  his  should  have  been 
assailed  with  all  sorts  of  sulphurous  visions  of  purgatory,  and 
that  his  fragile  frame  should  have  been  fearfully  shaken  by 
superstitious  horrors  of  every  shape.  What  mortal  could 
calmly  endure  the  intense  anguish  of  such  remorse  ?  He 
flew  to  Rome  for  relief.  And  it  was  only  when  Pius  VII. 
hesitated  by  granting  him  a  divorce  to  set  aside  the  dispen 
sation  of  a  venerable  predecessor  for  the  solemnization  of 
the  marriage,  that  Henry's  devotion  was  turned  to  bitter, 
ness.  In  the  excess  of  his  virtuous  indignation  he  resolved 
to  defy  the  authority  of  that  church,  whose  canons  he  had 
such  holy  horror  of  breaking,  even  with  the  connivance  of  its 
head.  He  felt  there  was  a  higher  power  whose  simple  fiat 
should  outweigh  the  indulgences  of  all  St.  Peter's  succes 
sors  together.  The  Levitical  law  was  more  sacred  to  him 
than  the  accumulated  bulls  of  a  thousand  Popes.  Alone 
he  stood  forward  the  champion  of  morality  and  religion,  the 
avenger  of  outraged  decency  and  the  advocate  of  civil  rights. 
Such  distinguished  sincerity,  such  refined  delicacy,  it  seems 
to  me,  should  entitle  their  possessor  to  the  highest  admira 
tion  of  posterity.  The  churchmen  whose  fortunes  he 
founded  should  be  eternally  grateful  for  the  illustrious  ex 
ample  of  piety  he  gave,  in  shrinking  from  so  sinful  a  con 
nection  ;  they  should  unceasingly  thank  him  for  the  admira 
ble  evidence  of  intrepidity  he  afforded,  when  he  resisted 


270  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

that  power,  which  would  have  forced  him  to  continue  it 
Since  they  cannot  canonize  him,  but  are  allowed  to  indulge  a 
passion  for  heraldry,  they  might,  at  least,  quarter  his  arms 
over  the  door  of  every  established  church-  in  the  kingdom. 
The  factions  might,  however,  declare  that  it  was  a  little  re 
markable  that  Henry  was  never  disturbed  by  those  praise 
worthy  apprehensions  of  sin  till  he  had  grown  weary  of  the 
person  of  his  wife,  who  was  some  years  older  than  himself. 
But  surely  such  a  coincidence  should  not  stain  the  purity  of 
his  conduct.  Because  he  had  passed  eighteen  years  of  his 
life  in  evil-doing  is  no  reason  why  he  should  not  have  ex 
perienced  the  greatest  eagerness  to  atone  for  past  faults. 
He  never  pined  for  a  divorce  till  he  had  wholly  yielded  him 
self  up  to  his  unruly  passion  for  Anne  Bullen.  That  should 
not  have  lessened  his  anxiety  to  free  himself  from  a  connec 
tion,  revolting  alike  to  his  pious  feelings  as  a  Christian  and 
his  moral  sentiments  as  a  man.  He  never  questioned  the 
divine  right  of  the  Pope  till  he  refused  to  minister  to  his 
vices.  But  ought  this  fact  to  tarnish  the  glory  he  won  in 
freeing  England  from  the  rule  of  the  spiritual  tyrant  ?  Such 
a  monarch,  actuated  by  motives  so  pious,  so  holy,  so  ex 
alted,  the  Church  of  England  may  well  feel  proud  of,  as  its 
founder. 

But  there  are  churchmen  so  little  orthodox  in  their  esti 
mate  of  Henry's  religious  character,  that  they  would  will 
ingly  prove  the  church  a  foundling,  the  mysterious  results 
of  a  happy  combination  of  circumstances,  instead  of  allow 
ing  her  all  the  advantages  of  her  distinguished  parentage. 
The  atrocity  of  the  attempt  is  only  equalled  by  its  folly. 
History  fortunately  furnishes  facts  which  establish  the  illus 
trious  pedigree  of  the  church  as  indisputably  as  if  it  had 
been  recorded  in  the  Herald's  College.  These  skeptics  may 
declare  that  the  public  mind  had  been  gradually  prepared 
for  the  great  religious  revolution,  and  that  Henry,  for  the 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND.  27 1 

only  time  in  his  life,  consulted  the  wishes  of  the  people  "in 
breaking  his  allegiance  with  the  Pope. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  the  overgrown  power  of 
Rome  had  become  extremely  irksome  in  England.  Many 
of  the  nobles  were  anxious  to  see  the  country  freed  from  the 
inordinate  riches  and  encroaching  disposition  of  the  clergy. 
Although  the  rival  forms  of  the  two  churches  were,  to  them, 
matters  of  supreme  indifference,  as  the  accommodating  elas 
ticity  of  their  consciences  during  the  rapid  religious  changes 
under  Mary,  Edward  and  Elizabeth  abundantly  proved,  yet 
they  both  feared  and  hated  the  arrogant  priesthood,  whose 
superior  opulence  overshadowed  the  magnificence  of  their 
own  order.  The  immense  riches  accumulated  by  the  six  hun 
dred  and  forty-five  monasteries,  the  ninety  colleges,  the  two 
thousand  three  hundred  and  seventy-four  chantries  and  free 
chapels,  and  one  hundred  and  ten  hospitals  which  Henry  was 
pleased  to  plunder,  are  almost  incredible.  One  of  their  own 
partisans  concluded  that  they  possessed  little  less  than  one- 
fifth  of  the  entire  landed  property  of  England,  besides  their 
enormous  revenues  arising  from  other  sources.  When  it  is 
remembered  that  in  addition  to  wealth  so  unusual,  all  ton 
sured  persons  enjoyed  an  immunity  from  civil  punishment 
for  crimes,  it  is  no  longer  surprising  that  they  should  have 
been  regarded  with  fear  and  suspicion,  even  by  their  own  party. 
Possessing,  as  they  did,  such  extraordinary  means  of  every 
vicious  indulgence,  without  the  restraint  imposed  on  other 
members  of  society  by  the  civil  law,  it  is  not  improbable 
that  their  excesses  merited  the  exaggerated  reports  made 
by  Henry's  commissions  of  visitation.  But  so  far  was  this 
natural  desire  for  an  improvement  in  the  morals  of  her 
priesthood  from  inciting  any  alienation  from  the  old  church, 
that  when  Henry  first  attacked  her,  by  his  daring  spoliation 
of  the  smaller  convents,  a  rebellion  convulsed  the  north  of 
England,  and  disturbances  occurred  in  various  portions  of  the 


2*72  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

kingdom.  What  better  evidence  of  strong  attachment  to 
the  Catholic  Church  could  be  adduced  than  that  the  tyrant, 
with  all  the  terror  of  his  name,  was  unable  to  quell  the  in 
dignation  of  the  people  at  his  officious  tampering  with  their 
faith?  The  dissatisfaction  was  much  increased  upon  the 
destruction  of  the  larger  convents  in  1540.  Even  Henry, 
whose  fierce  nature  seemed  to  delight  in  warring  against 
God  and  man,  became  alarmed,  and  he  attempted  to  enlist 
the  most  powerful  of  the  nobles  on  his  side,  by  bribing  them 
with  the  confiscated  estates  of  the  monasteries.  Does 
such  universal  disaffection,  from  so  despotic  a  government, 
evince  any  eagerness,  on  the  part  of  a  nation,  for  religious 
changes  ?  No,  no  !  It  was  Henry,  not  the  people,  who  had 
quarrelled  with  the  Pope.  His  vices  and  not  their  devo 
tional  feelings  were  to  be  gratified  by  the  Reformation.  If 
Catherine  of  Arragon  had  been  younger,  or  Anne  Bullen 
less  beautiful,  England  might  have  become  Protestant,  in  the 
lapse  of  ages,  but  she  would  have  escaped  the  crushing 
weight  of  the  hierarchy. 

When  Henry,  after  his  rupture  with  the  Pope,  gracefully 
resigned  the  magnificent  title  of  "  Defender  of  the  Faith," 
and  assumed  the  one  no  less  imposing,  of  "  Protector  and 
Supreme  Head  of  the  Church,"  he  conducted  himself  as 
step-fathers,  on  such  occasions,  are  wont  to  do.  He  at  once 
commenced  a  rigid  inquiry  into  the  morals  of  his  adopted 
charge.  The  monks  were  reported  to  be  somewhat  loose 
and  erratic  in  their  habits.  Their  tender  guardian  declared 
them  incapable  of  managing  their  own  affairs,  and  wishing, 
I  presume,  to  present  to  the  world  a  startling  example  of 
his  superior  justice  and  piety,  coolly  robbed  them  of  all 
their  possessions,  and  would  himself  have  pocketed  the 
money,  if  he  had  dared.  Every  friend  of  law  and  order 
felt  outraged,  by  the  king's  glaring  violation  of  the  sacred 
rights  of  property.  Admitting  that  the  monasteries  har- 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND.  273 

bored  individuals  who  were  guilty  of  excesses,  and  even 
crimes,  before  what  legal  tribunal  had  they  been  ar 
raigned  ?  By  what  jury  had  they  been  condemned  ?  By 
what  right  had  the  king  become  censor  of  the  morals  of  his 
subjects?  What  stretch  of  the  royal  prerogative  had  given 
him  this  sweeping  power  of  confiscation,  to  regulate  the  pri 
vate  lives  of  the  people  ? 

The  monks,  too,  with  all  their  jolly  vices,  had  many  and 
warm  friends  in  the  kingdom.  The  great  mass  of  the  popu 
lation,  who  would  have  hailed  with  joy  a  decent  reformation 
of  their  morals,  were  alarmed  into  resistance  by  this  terrible 
blow,  struck,  through  the  monasteries,  at  the  Church  itself. 
Besides,  there  were  many  who  continued  to  entertain  an  af 
fectionate  weakness  for  the  religious  houses,  in  spite  of  all 
their  failings.  Those  who  had  dead  friends  to  be  prayed 
for,  those  whose  sinful  courses  made  them  look  forward  with 
trembling  eagerness  to  the  masses  that  were  to  be  said  for 
their  souls,  after  they  had  been  called  to  their  final  reckon 
ing, — the  benighted  travellers  who  missed  the  cheering  hos 
pitality  of  the  scattered  monks,  and  the  beggars  who  daily 
received  alms  at  the  gates  of  the  monasteries, — all  assisted 
to  swell  the  wail  of  timorous  indignation  at  the  sacrilege  of 
Henry. 

The  pious  haste  with  which  he  devoted  the  incontinent 
abbots  and  their  followers  to  destruction,  was  no  doubt  in 
creased  by  the  gratifying  prospect  of  their  confiscated  trea 
sures,  which  were  by  no  means  unacceptable  to  a  spend 
thrift  of  his  expensive  tastes  and  improvident  disposition. 
But,  with  the  impious  audacity  to  strike  the  blow,  he  lacked 
the  moral  courage  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  wickedness. 
Bewildered  by  the  storm  of  opposition  which  assailed  him, 
he  was  compelled  to  dole  out  the  pilfered  estates  of  the 
church  to  the  nobility,  hoping,  by  making  his  crime  their 
interest,  to  enlist  these  ready  allies,  of  evil  on  his  side. 
12* 


2*74  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Thus  cowardice  defeated  the  only  possible  benefit  that  might 
have  arisen  to  the  state,  from  so  flagrant  an  outrage  in  its 
head.  Had  Henry  retained  these  immense  treasures,  his 
subjects  might  have  been  relieved,  at  least,  from  the  bur 
den  of  "  supporting  the  dignity  of  the  crown,"  and  ':  pro 
viding  for  the  public  defence" — two  favorite  pretexts,  in 
despotic  governments,  for  squandering  the  money  of  the 
people.  But,  what  he  did  not  lavish  in  idle  parade,  having 
become  the  victim  of  his  own  fears,  he  distributed  to  covet 
ous  courtiers,  to  swell  their  large  fortunes,  whilst  he  re 
mained  as  needy  and  craving  as  before.  His  successors, 
backed  by  these  powerful  nobles  as  their  friends,  and  sup 
ported  by  the  numerous  party  of  reformers  who  had  sprung 
up  in  the  kingdom,  possessing  all  the  facilities  he  had .  af 
forded  them  for  completing  the  work  he  had  hims*elf  com 
menced,  were  still  unable  peaceably  to  establish  the  High 
Church  of  England.  Rebellion  and  insurrection  followed 
the  attempt,  and  Burnet  admits  that  Edward  was  forced  to 
send  over  for  foreign  soldiers,  to  intimidate  the  obstinate 
bigotry  of  the  people. 

When  Henry,  with  all  his  terrible  machinery  for  awing 
discontent  into  silence,  had  been  unable,  without  outbreaks, 
to  interfere  with  the  religious  opinions  of  the  nation,  it  is 
scarcely  to  be  supposed  that  Edward,  or  even  the  more  reso 
lute  Elizabeth,  could  ever  have  established  the  new  church, 
had  he  not  prepared  the  way  for  them,  by  wholly  changing 
the  estate  of  the  upper  house  of  Parliament,  when  he  de 
stroyed  the  monasteries.  The  abbots  and  priors,  to  whom 
writs  of  summons  had  been  previously  issued,  added  to  the 
twenty-one  Bishops,  had  always  given  the  Spiritual  Lords 
the  majority  in  the  House  of  Peers.  These,  whether  actu 
ated  by  attachment  to  their  belief,  or  by  worldly  considera 
tions,  would  always  have  firmly  resisted  every  attempt  at 
alterations  in  their  form  of  worship. 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    CHURCH    OF    ENGLAND.  2*75 

Who  can  doubt  that  it  was  Henry's  will,  and  not  the 
general  desire  of  the  people,  which  commenced  the  Refor 
mation  in  England  1  Who  can  pretend  that  the  destruc 
tion  of  the  monasteries  was  not  the  immediate  cause  of  its 
accomplishment  ?  Had  the  expelled  churchmen  been  al 
lowed  to  retain  their  places  in  the  House  of  Lords,  the  Pro 
testant  successors  of  Henry  could  never  have  obtained  that 
powerful  influence  over  the  nation  which  was  derived  from 
a  decree  of  Parliament.  And,  though  the  people  murmur- 
ingly  submitted  to  despotic  power,  when  sustained  by  the 
instinctive  obedience  to  law  with  which  they  had  been 
reared,  they  would  never  have  yielded  rights  so  dear  as 
their  religious  belief  to  tyranny  alone.  So  tremendous  a 
revolution  could  never  have  been  effected  in  England,  but 
for  Henry's  destruction  of  the  monasteries. 

The  tyrant's  unholy  love  for  Anne  Bullen  first  induced 
him  to  set  up  a  church  of  his  own ;  his  spoliation  of  the 
monasteries  enabled  his  successors  to  sustain  it.  Henry's 
lust  produced  the  Church  of  England  ;  his  rapacity  estab 
lished  it. 


276  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 


CHAPTEK   X. 

PERSECUTION  UNDER  THE  ESTABLISHED  CHURCH. 

BLOODY  Mary  has  never  lacked  a  chronicler  of  her  wicked 
deeds.  Her  cruelty  and  bigotry  are  themes,  upon  which 
historians  of  successive  ages  have  dilated  with  increasing 
eloquence.  All  persons  of  rank,  who  suffered  during  her 
reign,  are  thrust  into  prominent  places  in  history,  and  even 
obscure  mediocrity  is  lighted  into  immortality  by  the  flash 
ing  fires  of  Smithfield.  Every  state  trial  is  noted  with 
eagerness,  every  fine  recorded,  and  the  list  of  the  martyrs 
burnt  at  the  stake  is  preserved  with  commendable  accuracy. 
Leaders  of  rival  parties  have  vied  with  each  other  in  heaping 
obloquy  on  her  memory.  But  no  politician  ever  sought 
popularity,  or  author  renown,  by  dwelling  on  the  persecutions 
which  followed  under  her  Protestant  successor. 

Yet  the  implacable  fury  of  Elizabeth  was  not  directed 
against  a  single  sect.  The  omission  of  the  surplice  and  the 
use  of  the  crucifix  were  crimes,  in  her  eyes,  equally  deserving 
of  punishment ;  and  Puritans  and  Catholics  both  became 
the  objects  of  her  remorseless  bigotry.  It  seems  the  anxious 
wish  of  Englishmen,  of  every  grade,  that  the  lurid  glare  of 
persecution  under  Elizabeth  should  pale  before  the  vaunted 
glories  of  her  reign.  In  remembering  the  eloquence  of 
Shakspeare,  and  the  learning  and  wisdom  of  Bacon,  and 
boasting  of  the  intimidation  of  their  Scottish  neighbors,  and 
the  continued  subjugation  of  the  Irish,  in  exulting  in  the 


PERSECUTION    UNDER    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.        277 

deeds  of  Drake  and  Hawkins,  and  the  destruction  of  the 
Spanish  armada,  men  are  too  prone  to  forget  the  religious 
intolerance  of  their  favorite  sovereign. 

No  record  has  been  kept  of  the  obnoxious  sects  who 
perished  in  prison  from  privation,  nor  can  we  tell  how  many 
were  reduced  to  beggary,  by  the  infliction  of  enormous  fines 
or  the  entire  confiscation  of  their  estates.  But  we  do  know, 
from  undoubted  authority,  that  under  this  wise,  chaste  and 
most  Christian  princess,  two  hundred  and  four  Catholics  alone 
lost  their  lives  for  opinion's  sake,  and  that  the  fearful  clank 
of  the  rack  was  rarely  silent  during  the  latter  years  of  her 
reign. 

In  obsequious  Parliaments,  that  knew  no  law  but  the 
Queen's  pleasure,  statute  succeeded  statute,  robbing  them 
of  every  right  an  Englishman  holds  dear.  The  strict  pro. 
hibition  of  all  public  enjoyment  of  their  religion  was  not 
deemed  sufficient.  The  most  clandestine  performance  of 
their  rites  was  strictly  forbidden ;  priests  were  banished 
from  the  kingdom  on  pain  of  death,  and  those  were  punished 
who  were  aware  of  their  presence,  without  giving  immediate 
information.  Ingenious  tests  were  contrived,  by  which  the 
persecuted  Catholics  were  excluded  from  all  offices  of  trust 
and  honor.  The  sacred  precincts  of  their  homes  were  in 
vaded  by  spies  and  informers,  armed  with  a  revolting  oath, 
the  refusal  of  which  hurried  the  inoffensive  victims  to  prison, 
or  subjected  them  to  ruinous  fines  and  confiscations.  The 
terrible  tribunals  of  the  Star  Chamber  and  High  Commission 
Court  deprived  them  of  those  only  guarantees  of  personal 
freedom — the  habeas  corpus  act  and  trial  by  jury.  But  even 
when  allowed,  by  an  ostentatious  parade  of  clemency,  the 
benefit  of  the  ordinary  course  of  law,  what  hope  had  they  of 
receiving  justice  in  a  community  in  which  men  regarded  a 
Papist  as  a  dangerous  criminal  ?  Elizabeth,  however,  when 
she  occasionally  made  these  specious  exhibitions  of  pretended 


278  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

justice,  fearing  that  the  conscientious  scruples  of  her  sub 
jects  might,  by  chance,  prove  stronger  than  their  prejudices 
resorted  to  means,  unheard  of  at  the  present  day,  to  secure 
verdicts  in  accordance  with  her  own  relentless  disposition. 
Sheriffs  had  general  orders  to  select  such  jurors  as  they  be 
lieved  favorable  to  the  Queen's  views ;  but  when  this  expe 
dient  occasionally  failed,  whole  juries  have  been  fined  and 
imprisoned  for  daring  to  return  verdicts  in  known  opposition 
to  her  wishes.  Such  were  the  machinations  against  the  op 
pressed  Catholics,  and  such  the  remorseless  bigotry  of  the 
Queen,  that  even  this  semblance  of  doing  them  justice,  ac 
cording  to  the  Common  Law  of  England,  became  a  heartless 
mockery. 

The  Archbishops,  under  Elizabeth,  enabled  by  the  bound 
less  authority  of  the  Court  of  High  Commission  rigidly  to 
enforce  the  Acts  of  Supremacy,  of  Uniformity,  and  others, 
enacted  by  debased  Parliaments  for  the  entire  extirpation 
of  Popery,  readily  won  for  themselves  a  notoriety  worthy  of 
the  Inquisition  in  its  blackest  days.  The  eagerness  they 
displayed  in  their  too  ready  obedience  to  these  nefarious 
enactments,  by  pursuing  unoffending  Catholics,  might,  in  the 
eyes  of  bigoted  high-churchmen,  justly  entitle  them  to  be 
considered  ornaments  of  the  new  religion,  which,  avowedly, 
had  been  purged  of  all  the  superstition  and  intolerance  of 
the  old.  But  could  this  intemperate  zeal,  whose  end  was 
blood,  obtain  the  approbation  of  our  God,  who  commands  to 
forgive  our  enemies,  and  to  pray  for  those  who  despitefully 
use  us  ?  And  yet  such  holy  hypocrites  as  Parker  and 
Whitgift,  who  professed,  in  opposition  to  the  Pope,  to  take 
the  Bible  as  their  guide,  could  employ  such  degraded  emis 
saries  as  Topcliffe  to  dog  the  footsteps  of  their  pretended 
enemies,  to  pervert  their  confidential  discourses  into  treason- 
able  threats,  and  to  search  the  most  private  places  of  their 
homes  for  hidden  evidences  of  Popery  :  when  all  Catholic 


PERSECUTION    UNDER    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.        279 

ceremonies  in  public  had  been  suppressed ;  when  priests 
were  prohibited  to  enter  the  kingdom  on  pain  of  death  ; 
when  Catholics  were  compelled  to  attend  Protestant 
churches,  and  assist  in  the  performance  of  rites  as  repugnant 
to  their  consciences  as  Christians,  as  their  independence  as 
men.  Yet  these  modern  Pharisees,  arrayed  in  lawn  and 
hypocrisy,  with  prayer  on  their  lips  and  murder  in  their 
hearts,  would  dare  to  kneel  before  the  altar  and  implore 
God  to  deliver  them  "from  envy,  hatred,  and  malice,  and  all 
uncharitableness."  Did  God  or  mammon,  respect  for  Holy 
Writ  or  lust  of  power,  urge  them  on  in  these  unhallowed 
courses  ?  When  the  religion  that  they,  at  the  same  time, 
professed  and  disgraced,  breathes  peace  on  earth  and  good  will 
to  men,  what  Christian  could  regard  such  bitter  intolerance 
as  an  evidence  of  sincerity  ?  What  portion  of  the  Scriptures, 
that  they  professed  to  obey,  had  taught  them  to  drink  in,  as 
music ,  the  cries  of  their  victims  stretched  on  the  rack  ? 
What  feeling  of  humanity  could  prompt  them  to  watch,  with 
delight,  their  quivering  limbs  whilst  being  drawn  and  quar 
tered  by  the  hangman  1  Their  unnecessary  zeal  in  obeying 
those  cruel  edicts,  was  revolting  alike  to  the  charity  of 
Christians  and  humanity  of  men  ! 

Sophists,  in  attempting  to  extenuate  the  conduct  of  the 
Archbishops,  might  advance  three  plausible  apologies  for 
their  insane  bigotry.  They  might  pretend  that,  actuated  by 
profound  principles  of  state  policy,  Whitgift  had  sacrificed 
to  a  sense  of  duty,  his  charity  as  a  Christian.  They  might 
declare  that  according  to  the  more  than  doubtful  morality  of 
"  expediency,"  both  he  and  Parker  were  justifiable  in  their 
persecutions,  in  order  to  retain  their  positions  and  influence 
at  court,  by  yielding  to  the  prejudices  of  the  Queen.  Or, 
lastly,  they  might  tell  us  that  they  were  influenced  by  the 
uncontrollable  hatred,  incident  to  the  jealousy  between  rival 
churches.  But  I  feel  confident  that  I  can  show  that  each 


280  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

of  these  positions  is  untenable.  I  think  I  can  prove  that 
the  persecutions,  under  these  distinguished  primates,  sprung 
from,  and  were  nurtured  by,  the  malevolent  intolerance  that 
has  always  characterized  the  Established  Church  of  England. 

State  policy  has  always  been  made,  in  despotic  govern 
ments,  the  cloak  for  countless  severities  and  many  crimes. 
Ministers  may  be  vile,  the  king  tyrannical,  and  the  church 
corrupt ;  yet  historians,  professing  to  preserve  the  records  of 
truth,  have  always  been  found  blandly  to  attribute  their  atro 
cities  to  the  imperious  necessity  of  "State  policy."  But 
this  flattering  vindication  cannot  be  applied  to  the  conduct 
of  the  Archbishops.  They  stood  alone  among  the  advisers 
of  the  crown  in  their  unrelenting  hostility  to  dissenters  of 
every  denomination ;  they  surpassed  the  Queen  herself  in 
their  rancor.  Sympathy  with  public  grievances  and  indi 
vidual  suffering,  is  not  ordinarily  of  the  keenest  nature  in 
the  hearts  of  ambitious  statesmen.  They  often  correct 
abuses  and  submit  to  reforms,  'tis  true,  but  they  are  rather 
driven  by  the  force  of  public  opinion,  than  actuated  by  com 
passion  for  the  wrongs  of  the  oppressed  people.  Yet  those 
in  the  cabinet  of  Elizabeth,  who  were  the  bitterest  enemies 
of  the  Catholics,  shrunk  back  appalled  by  the  bloody  zeal  of 
Whitgift  and  Parker,  though  a  majority  of  the  nation  ap 
proved  the  exterminating  edicts  against  popery.  Lord  Bur- 
leigh.  and  Sir  Christopher  Hatton.  indignant  at  the  unneces 
sary  cruelty  with  which  Catholics  were  pursued,  boldly 
remonstrated  with  the  Queen  against  the  unseemly  excess  of 
her  Archbishops.  But  their  revengeful  bigotry  was  too 
much  in  accordance  with  Elizabeth's  own  gloomy  temper,  to 
allow  her  to  listen  to  the  counsels  of  her  more  reasonable 
advisers. 

Admitting  that  the  interests  of  church  and  state  were 
so  intimately  allied,  as  to  make  it  necessary  to  restrain  the 
open  exercise  of  the  Romish  rites,  how  can  their  admirers 


PERSECUTION    UNDER    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.        283 

palliate  the  conduct  of  the  Archbishops,  after  the  most  pri 
vate  indulgence  of  these  forbidden  ceremonies  had  been  sup 
pressed,  and  the  persecuted  Papists  compelled  to  attend  the 
Protestant  churches  ?  Their  terrified  imaginations,  haunted 
by  the  consciousness  of  cruelty,  might  on  the  slightest  pro 
vocation  have  conjured  up  plots  to  overturn  the  state,  and 
conspiracies  to  murder  the  Queen.  But  there  were  no 
grounds  of  fear,  except  of  those  air-drawn  daggers  that  al 
ways  shake  the  souls  of  tyrants.  The  Roman  Catholics, 
though  deprived  of  every  civil  and  religious  right,  had  never 
manifested  a  disposition  to  rebel  against  the  government. 
Helpless  in  their  sufferings,  unarmed  and  unmurmuring,  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  Christian  meekness  of  their  resignation 
should  have  excited  something  like  forbearance  in  the  souls 
of  their  oppressors.  But  submission  in  their  victims  seem 
ed  but  more  fiercely  to  excite  the  ire  of  these  insatiable 
churchmen.  Even  when  all  causes  of  animosity  had  been 
removed,  and  every  object  of  persecution  suppressed — when 
their  foes  had  nothing  more  left  of  which  they  could  rob 
them,  and  not  even  a  murmur  against  their  cruelty  could  be 
heard  to  excite  their  indignation,  they  played  the  part  of 
the  wolf  in  the  fable  towards  the  lamb :  they  accused  the 
downtrodden  Catholics  of  stirring  the  fierce  stream  of  per 
secution  that  poured  from  the  Protestant  church,  and  still 
farther  punished  them  for  evils  that  they  themselves  had  in 
flicted  on  the  land. 

So  far  were  the  Catholics  from  resisting  the  government, 
that  the  united  efforts  of  the  Parliament,  the  Queen,  and 
her  pet  churchmen,  were  unable  to  drive  them  into  rebel 
lion,  though  their  barbarities  seemed  perpetrated  with  that 
intention.  They  remained  unshaken  in  their  allegiance, 
though  the  whole  Catholic  world  stood  ready  to  avenge  their 
wrongs.  The  Pope  thundered  forth  his  bulls.  France  and 
Spain  sent  emissaries  and  distributed  money,  with  the  vain 


282  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

hope  of  exciting  a  revolt,  that  they  were  most  anxious  to  as 
sist.  These  two  nations  then  wished  to  aid  them,  in  spito 
of  themselves  ;  and  only  demanded,  in  case  of  an  invasion, 
their  passive  neutrality.  But  these  despised  Papists,  de 
prived  of  every  privilege  that  made  the  name  of  English 
man  tolerable,  so  loved  England  and  her  Queen,  that  they 
were  unwilling  to  receive  their  rights  from  strangers,  when 
the  price  demanded  for  them  was  the  Constitution  of  their 
country. 

When  a  powerful  armament  of  the  then  mightiest  king 
dom  of  the  universe,  threatened  the  entire  subjugation  of 
Great  Britain  ;  when  the  Spanish  Armada,  freighted  with 
the  picked  men  of  Castilian  chivalry,  was  hovering  near  the 
coast,  and  every  English  heart,  from  the  Queen  to  the 
humblest  peasant,  quaked  with  terror — the  persecuted  Pa 
pists,  instead  of  quietly  awaiting  the  deliverance  promised 
them  by  these  Spanish  invaders,  rushed  to  their  standards, 
and  the  Catholic  gentry  were  the  first  to  appear  in  the  field, 
with  volunteers  for  the  defence  of  the  Queen.  All  history 
cannot  afford  another  such  example  of  heroic  disinterested 
ness.  Poets  love  to  sing  the  praises  of  patriotism  5  histo 
rians  delight  to  immortalize  its  possessors  5  but  the  eulogy 
of  a  self-sacrificing  patriotism  like  this  should  not  be  pro 
nounced  by  poets  and  historians  alone.  It  should  not  be 
confined  to  a  single  nation  ;  it  should  be  sounded  in  every 
land — it  should  find  an  echo  in  every  heart.  Patriotism, 
though  so  noble,  so  exalted,  is  but  too  often  the  result  of 
the  blessings  of  a  government,  or  the  delights  of  a  home. 
But  these  Catholic  gentlemen,  in  coming  to  the  aid  of  the 
Queen,  were  sacrificing  position,  wealth,  religion,  and  life  it 
self  to  an  ungrateful  country.  What  more  glorious  evidence 
could  be  adduced  that  the  spies  and  the  rack,  the  fires  and 
the  gallows  of  their  persecutors  were  not  necessary  to  teach 
them  their  duties  as  Englishmen  ?  What  better  proof  could 


PERSECUTION    UNDER    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.         283 

be  required,  that  no  considerations  of  State  policy  could 
dictate  the  destruction  of  men  so  ready  to  brave  danger,  in 
defence  of  their  oppressors  ? 

Passive  obedience  is  too  often  demanded  by  monarchs 
from  ambitious  subjects,  as  the  price  of  royal  favor.  And 
such  is  the  tenacity  with  which  men  cling  to  power,  that 
even  honorable  minds  will  frequently  sink  to  the  commission 
of  mean,  and  sometimes  guilty  deeds,  in  order  to  retain  it. 
Had  the  Archbishops  held  their  sees,  as  the  Ministers  of 
State  their  places,  by  the  frail  tenure  of  a  tyrant's  will,  self 
ishness  might  have  afforded  them,  in  the  eyes  of  the  worldly, 
a  mean  excuse  for  their  conduct.  But  even  this  miserable 
pretext  was  denied  them.  They  held  their  positions  for 
life.  In  assuming  the  Archbishop's  mitre  they  had  been 
emancipated  from  the  authority  of  the  sovereign  herself. 
They  had  no  court  favor  to  sacrifice — no  places  to  lose. 
Thenceforth  their  lives  were  to  be  dedicated  to  Heaven 
alone.  As  the  heads  of  the  Church,  their  allegiance  was 
due  to  God — not  to  the  Queen.  His  commands — not  her 
whims — they  had  solemnly  sworn  to  obey. 

During  great  revolutions,  whether  in  Church  or  State, 
the  opposing  parties  imbibe  a  bitterness  for  each  other, 
which,  however  inconsistent  it  may  be  with  their  professions 
as  Christians,  is  but  natural  to  their  feelings  as  men.  Not 
a  half  a  century  previous  to  the  epoch  in  English  history  at 
which  we  have  arrived,  the  mighty  reformation  of  the  reli 
gious  opinions  of  the  world  had  taken  place.  The  separa 
tion  of  the  Reformers  from  the  Catholic  Church  had  been  so 
recent,  such  startling  changes  had  been  effected,  that  the 
deadliest  animosity  still  rankled  in  the  hearts  of  both. 
They  not  only  experienced  the  hostility  incident  to  such  oc 
casions,  but  it  became  an  object  of  the  highest  importance 
to  the  infallibility  of  each  one,  to  prove  the  outrages  against 
God  and  man  of  the  other.  And  if  we  implicitly  believe 


284  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  different  partisans,  both  Catholics  and  heretics  were  as 
certainly  deserving  of  the  gallows  as  they  were  declared  to 
be  of  hell-fire.  Every  article  of  faith  had  been  discussed — 
the  propriety  of  every  ceremony  disputed.  Questions  of 
temporal  authority  and  State  rights,  were  so  industriously 
mixed  up  in  these  spiritual  wranglings,  that  each  side 
learned  to  consider  it  as  sacred  a  duty  to  hate  the  other,  as 
to  go  to  church.  It  was  no  isolated  doctrine  that  was  to 
be  argued — no  single  alteration  of  forms  that  was  demanded. 
The  entire  religious  structure  was  to  be  overthrown,  and  a 
new  fabric  built  up. 

But,  unfortunately  for  the  fame  of  the  ghostly  advisers 
of  Elizabeth,  Protestant  dissenters  shared  the  aversion  they 
had  so  fearfully  manifested  towards  the  Catholics.  Puritans 
and  Catholics,  bitterly  as  they  were  opposed  to  each  other 
in  religion  and  politics,  suffered  in  common.  Without  a  sin 
gle  tie  of  sympathy — farther  removed  from  each  other  than 
either  was  from  their  mutual  enemy — they  were  yet  united 
in  being  martyrs  to  the  same  insane  malevolence.  So  large 
a  proportion  of  the  ministers,  officiating  in  the  Established 
Church  at  the  beginning  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  being  in  favor 
of  the  dissenting  doctrines,  their  opinions  should  have  com 
manded  more  consideration  than  they  received.  Simple, 
even  to  austerity,  in  their  notions  of  religion,  they  could  not 
silently  endure  those  ceremonies  of  the  Established  Church 
which  had  been  borrowed  from  the  splendid  superstitions  of 
Rome.  The  tippet  and  the  surplice,  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
and  the  crucifix,  were  to  them  the  shameful  badges  of  alle 
giance  to  the  Pope.  They  contended  that  these  rites,  trans 
ferred  from  the  old  church  to  the  new,  were  calculated  to 
keep  alive  in  the  minds  of  the  people  the  recollection  of  the 
captivating  religion  they  had  abandoned.  With  them  these 
ceremonies  were  matters  of  conscience  ;  their  presence 
violated  the  sacred  tenets  of  their  faith.  The  Queeii  being 


PERSECUTION    UNDER   THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.        285 

far  too  shrewd  in  judgment  to  regard  them  otherwise  than  as 
mere  forms,  wholly  unimportant  in  the  great  scheme  of  sal 
vation,  worldly  considerations  should  have  restrained  her 
from  the  attempt  to  force  them  on  her  dissenting  subjects, 
when  they  so  sincerely  believed  their  primitive  form  of  wor 
ship  to  be  outraged  by  such  idle  exhibitions.  The  jealous 
care  with  which  she  guarded  her  prerogative,  caused  this 
most  grievous  error  of  her  life.  It  was  not  that  she  deemed 
the  surplice  and  the  sign  of  the  cross  essential  to  the  puri 
ty  of  her  faith,  that  she  insisted  on  their  adoption  ;  it  was  be 
cause  she  considered  the  discontented  murmurs  of  the 
Dissenters  disrespectful  to  herself.  By  the  laws  of  the  land 
she  was  the  "  supreme  head  of  the  church,"  and  she  was  un 
willing  to  abate  her  authority  even  in  trifles. 

No  one  can  pretend  that  the  laws  which  created  the 
High  Church  of  England  did  not  confer  upon  the  Queen 
the  right  to  govern  her  own  spiritual  servants  in  her  own 
way.  And  when  the  ministers  of  the  Presbyterian  persua 
sion  broke  into  open  rebellion  against  her  authority,  by  re 
fusing  to  sign  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  I  think  the  Arch 
bishop  did  but  consult  the  interests  of  his  Church,  when  he 
ejected  them  from  their  livings.  But,  after  having  deprived 
them  of  all  temporal  advantages,  it  seems  to  me  it  would 
have  been  the  part  alike  of  the  Christian  and  the  statesman, 
to  have  left  them  in  the  secret  enjoyment  of  their  humble 
worship,  without  plunging  into  those  wild  excesses  of  perse 
cution,  which,  commencing  in  1567  with  the  dispersion  of 
the  conventicle  in  Plummer's  Hall  and  the  arrest  of  its 
principal  members,  resulted  in  a  revolution,  fatal  to  Eng 
land,  as  to  her  Church. 

The  fact  that  the  Independents,  in  their  wild  fanaticism, 
having  manifested,  even  at  that  early  period,  as  ferocious  an 
animosity  to  the  Queen  and  her  government  as  to  her 
church,  might  justify  the  enactment  of  those  laws,  executing 


286  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

their  ringleaders,  and  compelling  thousands  of  the  sect  tc 
fly  the  kingdom.  But  the  Puritan  ministers,  not  originally 
denying  the  lawfulness  of  the  High  Church  government,  and 
only  demanding  certain  reforms  in  her  discipline,  might 
have  been  easily  reconciled  by  the  abolition  of  the  obnox 
ious  ceremonies, — by  restraining  the  plurality  of  benefices, 
and  correcting  certain  other  abuses,  that  had  already  crept 
into  the  Church.  'Tis  true,  that  as  early  as  1570,  Thomas 
Cartwright  had  promulgated  the  doctrine  that  all  church 
government  was  unlawful,  except  that  taught  by  the  Apos 
tles,  which  was  the  Presbyterian ;  yet  a  few  timely  conces 
sions  from  the  Queen  would  have  prevented  its  after  agita 
tion  by  the  five  famous  commoners,  and  its  final  triumph,  in 
the  downfall  of  the  hierarchy,  and  the  establishment  of 
Presbyterian  Synods,  by  Cromwell  and  his  military  com 
panions. 

The  Queen  and  her  Archbishops,  blinded  by  the  vindic 
tive  violence  of  their  bigotry,  were  not  satisfied  with  dismiss 
ing  the  dissenting  ministers  from  their  benefices, — with 
venting  their  fury  on  private  conventicles,  and  forcing  all 
persons  over  sixteen  years  of  age  to  attend  some  church  of 
the  Established  order,  on  pain  of  banishment ;  they  •were 
not  contented  with  subjecting  the  hated  Puritans  to  the  in 
quisitorial  oath  ex  oflicio,  which  violated  that  cherished 
maxim  of  common  law,  that  no  one  could  be  compelled  to 
criminate  himself;  but  the  Archbishop  directed  all  pastors, 
not  only  to  encourage,  but  positively  to  enjoin  sports  and 
pastimes  on  the  Sabbath.  This  was  a  blow  aimed  directly 
at  the  Puritans.  The  Judaical  strictness  with  which  they 
kept  holy  this  seventh  day, — the  severity  with  which  they 
regarded  the  frivolities  of  the  gay  and  the  young,  were  the 
distinguishing  features  of  their  worship.  Grave  in  their 
deportment,  stern  in  all  that  regarded  their  religion,  these 
hardy  Dissenters  could  but  ill  brook  this  last  insult  to  the 


PERSECUTION    UNDER   THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.        287 

peculiar  tenets  of  their  faith.  They  were  not  prone  to 
anger,  but  in  sullen  silence  they  brooded  over  their  injuries, 
till  the  demon  of  resistance  was  aroused  among  them,  which 
only  slept  when  their  king  was  beheaded,  and  the  constitu 
tion  overthrown. 

The  only  apology  that  even  their  eulogists  attempt  to 
offer  for  the  short-sighted  policy — to  give  it  no  harsher 
name — of  the  Queen's  primates,  is,  that  the  safety  of  the 
Established  Church  depended  on  the  total  destruction  of 
every  denomination  of  Dissenters.  Surely,  worldly  wisdom, 
unaided  by  the  feelings  of  the  Christian,  should  have  taught 
these  imperious  advisers  of  the  Queen  in  religions  affairs, 
that  the  obstinacy  of  bold  and  sincere  men  was  not  to  be 
quelled  by  punishment ;  that  the  intrepidity  with  which  the 
leaders  suffered,  did  but  teach  their  followers  their  duty  to 
God  and  their  religion.  Persecution  has  never  failed  to 
make  proselytes,  and,  after  the  forty  years  of  uninterrupted 
molestation,  during  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  the  number  of 
the  Dissenters  had  greatly  increased,  their  popularity  had 
become  more  deeply  rooted,  and  their  enmity  to  the  estab 
lished  order  more  irreconcilable. 

The  first  James  was  a  willing,  but  not  a  daring  tyrant. 
Had  his  courage  been  commensurate  with  his  cruelty,  the 
long  and  systematic  persecutions  of  every  denomination  of 
Dissenters,  under  Elizabeth,  would  have  appeared  mild, 
compared  with  those  under  him.  But  the  Puritans,  having 
grown  too  strong  to  be  zealously  assailed  by  so  timid  a  des 
pot  as  James,  enjoyed,  during  his  whole  reign,  a  respite 
from  the  active  malevolence  of  his  predecessor.  The  Cath 
olics,  too  weak  to  be  dangerous,  became  the  especial  objects 
of  his  malignity.  Upon  them  he  vented  all  the  virulence  of 
a  disposition,  which  only  wanted  courage  to  render  it  truly 
dangerous.  In  persecuting  Papists,  he  indulged  in  the  lux- 


288  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

ury  of  being  cruel,  without  any  uncomfortable  fears  of  re 
sistance  or  retaliation. 

The  austere  piety  of  James's  unfortunate  son  and  suc 
cessor,  exerted  an  immediate  and  powerful  influence  upon 
the  character  of  the  church.  Charles's  sullen  resolution  in 
spired  his  Primates  with  the  requisite  boldness  to  indulge 
their  natural  propensities  for  intolerance.  The  vindictive 
spirit  of  other  days  was  kindled  into  a  blaze,  and  Puritans 
and  Catholics  became  once  more  fellow-sufferers.  It  was 
during  the  zealous  revival  of  persecution,  that  the  Estab 
lished  Church  so  startlingly  manifested  the  feline  fondness 
for  toying  with  the  victims  of  its  tortures.  Had  it  been 
simply  fear  or  hatred  of  the  growing  sects  of  Protestant 
Dissenters  which  urged  them  to  such  extreme  severities,  the 
safest  and  most  complete  gratification  of  both  feelings 
would  have  been  effectually  to  get  rid  of  them.  But  per 
mission  to  leave  the  kingdom  was  refused  to  Lord  Say, 
Hamden,  Cromwell,  and  their  followers,  by  Archbishop's  ad 
vice  to  the  king.  Though  the  hatred  of  these  so-called 
"  bold  bad  men  "  would  have  been  gratified,  and  all  fear  of 
their  machinations  removed  by  their  self-inflicted  banish 
ment  to  the  wild  shores  of  New  England  ;  yet  the  Church 
would  have  lost  half  of  its  sweetest  occupation,  by  allowing 
them  to  escape  her.  She  would  have  henceforth  been  com 
pelled  to  confine  her  gentle  attentions  to  the  Catholics,  who 
presented  much  too  narrow  a  field  for  the  genius  of  Laud 
and  his  associates.  And  of  course  the  king,  who  regarded 
the  delight  his  church  derived  from  the  lingering  torments 
of  her  victims  as  an  innocent  relaxation  after  her  more 
serious  duties  were  over,  was  much  too  pious  to  circumscribe 
her  pleasures,  by  permitting  one  half  of  his  best  subjects 
to  escape  to  America. 

The  Puritans,  surrounded,  and  pressed  upon,  without  hope 
of  escape,  took  redress  into  their  own  hands,  and  taught  the 


PERSECUTION    UNDER   THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.        289 

Established  Church,  when  too  late,  to  dread  the  power  they 
had  trampled  upon.  But  the  poor  Catholics,  always  unfor 
tunate,  continued  to  endure  the  bitterness  of  public  persecu 
tion,  in  addition  to  all  those  domestic  sufferings,  which  the 
unsuccessful  party  in  a  civil  war  must  always  submit  to. 
Adhering  to  Charles  throughout  his  disastrous  campaigns, 
their  very  virtue,  in  loyally  defending  the  constitution 
against  the  encroachments  of  Parliament,  became  to  them  a 
new  source  of  evil.  Yet  where  are  the  eulogists  of  their 
devotion  ;  what  applause  has  ever  been  awarded  them  for 
their  heroic  stand  in  favor  of  the  constitution  of  England  ? 
But  we  need  not  search  far  to  find  those  who  will  tell  us 
that  the  Primates  of  England,  at  this  epoch,  were  the  prop- 
crest  and  most  godly  of  men.  They,  beyond  doubt,  contin 
ued  the  formal  routine  of  their  duties,  complacently  pocket 
ing  the  immense  revenues  arising  from  their  sees,  and 
saying  a  lengthy  grace  before  every  meal.  But  the  strict 
performance  of  these  ghostly  duties  is  not  all  that  England 
has  to  be  grateful  for.  They  reduced  the  Catholic  popula 
tion  to  the  lowest  depths  of  misery.  They  pursued  the 
Protestant  Dissenters  with  every  species  of  atrocity.  In 
their  holy  zeal,  they  brought  sorrow  and  ruin  to  one  half 
the  hearths  of  Great  Britain,  and  finally  plunged  the  nation 
into  the  bloody  horrors  of  a  civil  war.  Yet  whilst  perform 
ing  these  eminent  services  to  the  state  they  never  omitted 
their  weekly  duty  of  praying  to  Heaven  that  it  might  please 
God  "  to  keep  all  nations  in  unity,  peace  and  concord. " 

All  persecution  of  dissenting  Protestants  ceased,  of 
course,  with  the  commencement  of  the  civil  war,  and  was 
never  afterwards  extensively  revived.  But  the  favor  with 
which  Charles  II.,  on  his  restoration,  regarded  the  unlucky 
Catholics,  was  sufficiently  evident  to  make  them  the  special 
objects  of  the  suspicion  and  hatred  of  the  public,  without  be 
ing  strong  enough  to  protect  them  from  the  consequences.  In 
13 


290  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  opinion  of  the  multitude  there  was  no  crime  too  heinoua 
for  them  to  be  guilty  of,  there  was  no  evidence  too  trivial  to 
convict  them.  They  were  even  accused  and  believed  guilty 
of  the  great  fire  of  London,  as  the  early  Christians  had  been 
accused  of  the  conflagration  of  Home.  Plots,  murders,  and 
conspiracies,  were  arrayed  with  fearful  rapidity  against 
them.  Rye-houses  and  meal-tubs  were  alleged  to  be  the  ex 
traordinary  scenes  of  their  plottings.  The  trade  of  public 
informer  was  then  first  known  in  England,  and  in  falsely 
swearing  the  destruction  of  the  innocent  Catholics,  such 
wretches  as  Gates  and  Bedloe  became  the  petted  favorites 
of  the  English  public. 

For  rather  more  than  a  century  the  interdicted  Pa 
pists  had  known  little  else  than  a  series  of  persecution, 
confiscation,  test-oaths  and  public  executions.  The  privacy 
of  their  homes  had  constantly  been  invaded  by  spies ;  and 
fear  and  suspicion  had  broken  up  the  little  circles  of  social 
enjoyments.  Their  brief  public  careers  had  been  run  in 
rebellions  and  civil  war.  Public  tranquillity  and  domestic 
quiet  had  been  equally  denied  to  them.  For  a  century  more 
they  continued  the  doomed  objects  of  an  implacable  intoler 
ance,  when  at  the  end  of  the  reign  of  George  II.  religious 
commotions  ceased.  Jacobitism  was  only  known  in  name, 
and  the  Catholics  at  last  found  peace  in  practical  toleration. 


PRESENT  STATE  OF  THE  ESTABLISHED  CHURCH.     291 


CHAPTER    XL 

PRESENT  STATE  OF  THE  ESTABLISHED  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND. 

THE  present  Church  of  England  does  no  discredit  to  its 
origin  and  past  career.  It  is  what  might  have  been  ex 
pected  from  the  violence  with  which  it  was  established,  and 
the  persecution  with  which  it  was  sustained.  It  is  a  bloated, 
unsightly  mass  of  formalities,  hypocrisy,  bigotry  and  self 
ishness,  without  a  single  charitable  impulse,  or  pious  aspi 
ration.  It  is  a  magnificent  establishment,  abounding  in 
wealth  and  worldliness,  oppression  to  tne  poor,  and  of  no 
great  spiritual  service  to  the  rich,  which  is  maintained  by 
government,  and  patronized  by  the  aristocracy,  as  the  conven 
ient  means  of  disposing  of  spendthrift  ':  younger  sons,"  and 
accommodating  aspiring  parvenues,  who  have  money  to  ex 
change  for  position.  Ministers  are  universally  regarded  as 
gentlemen  in  England,  and  people  of  obscure  birth  or  igno 
ble  occupations  may  acquire  easy  access  to  gentility  by  pur 
chasing  a  place  in  the  church. 

That  the  Church  of  England  numbers  among  its  mem 
bers  many  sincere  and  devout  Christians  I  pretend  not  to 
deny,  but  I  do  assert  that  the  system  which  has  been  adopted 
for  its  regulation  precludes  the  possibility  of  its  ministers 
being  actuated  by  those  exalted  feelings  which  should  always 
animate  the  teachers  of  God's  holy  word.  The  fact  of  all 
the  church  livings  being  regarded  as  property,  must  continue 
to  provide  ministers  of  the  gospel  only  acquainted  with  the 


292  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

forms  of  religion :  having  no  piety  but  their  prayer-books, 
no  morals  but  their  black  coats.  According  to  the  English 
notions  of  the  duties  of  clergymen,  they  may  be  the  proper- 
est  and  most  exemplary  men.  They  all  wear  white  cravats, 
hate  beggars,  and  collect  their  tithes  with  the  most  com 
mendable  regularity.  They  are  united  in  their  resistance 
to  every  attempt  at  reform,  and  are  untiring  in  their  exer 
tions  to  render  inviolable  the  antiquated  abuses  of  the 
church  ;  they  manifest  their  zeal  by  persecuting  Catholics  and 
cordially  hating  dissenters  of  every  denomination ;  they 
toadyize  their  patrons  with  the  most  Christian  meekness,  and 
display  their  regard  for  the  honor  of  "  the  cloth,"  by  begging 
or  buying  favor  sufficient  to  unite  in  their  own  persons  as 
many  profitable  livings  as  possible.  Being  conscious  that  a 
minister,  like  every  other  man  in  England,  is  respectable  in 
proportion  to  his  income,  they  show  their  zeal  for  the  dignity 
of  the  church  by  violating  its  most  sacred  laws  against 
Simony,  in  order  to  become  rich  by  becoming  pluralists. 
The  Christian  piety  of  these  holy  men,  who  exhibit  their 
zeal  by  persecuting  Catholics,  and  reviling  dissenters,  whilst 
they  themselves  indulge  in  the  worst  species  of  worldliness, 
calls  to  mind  the  delicate  conscience  of  the  corpulent  founder 
of  their  church,  who  was  too  God-serving  a  man  to  commit 
adultery,  but  could  piously  cut  off  the  head  of  an  innocent 
wife  in  order  to  make  way  for  a  lust  of  more  recent  origin. 
I  am  not  so  visionary  as  to  entertain  a  hope  of  rendering 
them  immaculate,  but  I  would  have  them  Christians  in  ac 
tion  as  in  name.  I  am  too  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
intense  selfishness  of  an  Englishman's  nature  to  suppose  that 
his  duties  to  Heaven  could  induce  him  to  sacrifice  the  ad 
vantages  of  worldly  position,  or  that  a  feeling  of  piety  could 
produce  even  momentary  forgetfulness  of  the  fascinations 
of  "  belly-cheer,"  but  I  would  have  these  appointed  preachers 
of  the  gospel  approach,  in  distant  imitation  at  least,  the 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          293 

self-sacrificing  devotion  of  the  Apostles,  who  went  forth 
without  scrip  and  without  shoes  to  preach  Christianity  to  the 
world.  Their  hearts  and  souls  are  absorbed  in  calculations  of 
tithes,  and  struggles  for  richer  livings,  but  they  consider 
themselves  acquitted  of  all  they  owe  to  Grod  by  the  observ 
ance  of  a  few  empty  forms.  The  specious  hypocrites  care 
fully  envelop  themselves  in  surplices,  but  manifest  their 
worldliness  by  hankering  after  fat  livings,  instead  of  doing 
good  works,  as  Achilles  betrayed  his  sex,  when  disguised 
among  the  daughters  of  Lycomedes,  by  his  preference  for 
arms  to  jewels. 

These  heartless  worldlings  are  not  only  guilty  of  the 
deepest  injustice  to  the  members  of  the  Established  Church 
in  monopolizing  the  benefices,  by  paying  obsequious  court 
to  their  owners,  to  the  exclusion  of  abler  and  more  pious 
teachers  whom  the  people  might  select,  but  they  insult  their 
helplessness  by  pocketing  their  money  without  pretending  to 
observe  those  duties  they  are  so  well  paid  to  perform.  If 
they  were  contented  with  receiving  an  enormous  salary  for 
mechanically  drawling  through  the  morning  and  evening 
prayers,  and  indolently  reading  once  a  week  a  stupid  ser 
mon  of  fifteen  minutes'  length,  without  being  animated  by  a 
single  feeling  that  should  influence  a  preacher,  the  injustice 
would  be  less  glaring.  If  they  were  simply  avaricious,  the 
wrong  would  be  less  outrageous  ;  but  they  are  energetically 
grasping.  To  become  gay  non-residents,  and  rich  pluralists, 
they  contemptuously  discard  even  the  semblance  of  those 
duties,  which  honor  if  not  religion  should  demand  from  them 
for  their  flocks.  The  following  startling  abuses  in  the 
Church  of  England  were  exposed  by  returns  recently  made 
to  Parliament. 

Number  of  benefices        .        .        .        .        .        .      10,987 

Resident  incumbents    .         .         .         .'>.'.'         6,699 


294  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Non-resident  incumbents  ...  .  3,736 

Vacancies  and  recent  institutions          ....       199 

Sequestrations 37 

No  returns 316 

"  The  number  of  curates  serving  benefices  on  which  tho 
incumbents  are  non-residents  is  2.711.  The  number  of  cu 
rates  assistant  to  resident  incumbents  is  2.032.  total  number 
of  curates  4,743."  Here  it  is  seen  that  a  third  of  the  en 
tire  number  of  clergymen  of  the  Established  Church  do  not 
even  reside  in  the  parishes,  over  which  they  profess  to  pre 
side,  but  leave  the  labor  of  their  duties  to  starving  curates, 
2.521  of  whom  receive  less  than  £100  a  year.  By  deduct 
ing  the  number  of  curates  employed  in  the  benefices  of  non 
resident  incumbents,  from  the  number  of  the  non-residents 
themselves,  it  will  be  found  that  in  more  than  a  thousand 
benefices  no  religious  service  is  performed,  although  their 
respective  pastors  are  regularly  pocketing  their  share  of  the 
$50.000.000,  annually  expended  for  the  support  of  the  Church 
of  England.  The  monstrous  fraud  and  injustice  of  such  a 
system  are  too  glaring  to  require  comment.  The  facts 
themselves  are  their  most  eloquent  condemnation. 

The  nobility  have  so  many  extravagant  younger  sons, 
and  dissipated  poor  relations  to  establish  in  life,  who  would 
degrade  their  families  by  engaging  in  any  active  pursuit ; 
there  are  so  many  of  the  young  gentry,  too  proud  to  work, 
and  yet  not  rich  enough  to  be  idle,  for  whom  some  lazy, 
honorable  occupation  must  be  provided,  that  the  army,  the 
navy,  the  public  offices,  and  the  colonies  are  insufficient 
to  accommodate  them  all.  The  church,  with  its  monstrous 
mass  of  impiety  and  injustice,  must  be  retained,  like  the 
East  India  Board,  as  a  more  extended  means  of  accommo 
dation  for  the  youthful  drones,  whom  the  aristocracy  have 
thrown  for  support  upon  the  hands  of  the  people.  But  besides 
the  assistance  extended  to  the  aristocracy,  the  government 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          295 

itself  derives  great  power  and  profit  from  the  patronage 
afforded  by  the  church.  And  when  we  remember  that  it  is 
composed  of  Englishmen,  it  would  be  madness  to  suppose 
that  they  would  sacrifice  such  advantages  to  any  conscien 
tious  scruples.  It  is  true  that  those  who  purchase,  or  ac 
cept  the  livings,  are  influenced  by  worldly  rather  than  re 
ligious  considerations ;  it  is  certain  that  the  opportunity  to 
enjoy  an  easy,  indolent  sort  of  existence,  rather  than  a  pious 
wish  to  dedicate  their  lives  to  Heaven,  induces  them  to  enter 
the  church.  But  what  is  it  to  the  government,  though  the 
religious  instruction  of  the  nation  be  intrusted  to  the  world 
liest  of  the  worldly  ?  What  is  it  to  them  that  the  ministers, 
whose  example  is  to  influence,  and  piety  direct  their  flocks, 
must  perjure  themselves  by  solemnly  swearing  when  they 
are  ordained,  that  they  are  moved  to  take  orders  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  ?  What  matters  it  though  the  vilest  hypocrites 
occupy  the  holiest  places,  if  their  ends  are  accomplished,  and 
their  aristocracy  sustained?  The  prayers  are  generally 
read  by  somebody,  and  the  responses  attended  to.  Could 
more  be  expected  from  an  established  church  ?  What  must 
we  think  of  the  policy  of  an  enlightened  government,  which 
could  deliberately  perpetrate  such  an  outrage  against  the 
religious  feelings  of  its  subjects  ?  What  opinion  must  we 
entertain  of  the  piety  of  subjects,  who  could  submit  to  it? 
If  there  be  a  crime  on  earth,  for  which  even  governments 
are  amenable  to  Heaven,  it  is  assembling  on  the  hallowed 
Sabbath  these  mocking  hypocrites  before  the  altar  of  God.  If 
there  be  sacrilege,  which  must  sooner  or  later  call  down  the 
wrath  of  an  offended  God,  it  is  prostituting  the  holy  offices 
of  religion  to  the  support  of  an  order. 

One  of  the  most  active  causes  of  the  success  of  the  Re 
formation  in  England  was  the  desire  in  the  nation  at  large,  to 
be  freed  from  the  domineering  control  and  oppressive  incomes 
of  the  priesthood.  The  great  changes  in  the  forms  of  religion 


296  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

were  not  so  much  the  result  of  reasoning  on  theological  sub 
jects,  as  a  conviction  of  the  fraud  and  corruption  existing  in 
the  Romish  Church.  The  covetous  and  arrogant  disposi 
tions  of  the  priests,  and  their  vast  temporal  power,  was  what 
most  disgusted  the  people,  and  made  them  eager  for  any  re 
volution  which  promised  a  reform  of  those  abuses.  But 
what  did  they  gain  by  the  change  ?  It  was  but  a  simple  al 
teration  of  names  ;  a  mere  transfer  of  authority  from  the 
Catholic  priesthood  to  the  Reformed  clergy.  The  sceptre  of 
the  king  was  substituted  for  the  keys  of  St.  Peter.  The  crown 
usurped  the  place  of  the  tiara.  The  patronage  of  the  livings 
belonging  to  the  Pope  fell  to  the  share  of  Henry  VIII ;  those 
benefices  which  had  been  claimed  by  the  Abbots  and  Priors 
were  transferred  to  the  Bishops,  and  those  of  the  Catholic  no 
bility  to  the  greedy  favorites  of  the  fat  king.  An  enormous 
amount  of  monkey  was  appropriated  to  give  grandeur  and  mag 
nificence  to  tl^-new  establishment.  The  value  of  church  pro 
perty  has/.'jfbceji.  estimated  at  the  almost  incredible  sum  of 
$900,OOQ$OQ*T  Bishops  were  lodged  and  supported  like 
princes,  and  ordinary  pastors  like  nobles.  Mr.  Baring  many 
years  ago  stated  in  the  House  of  Commons,  that  the  income 
of  the  Bishop-  of  London  amounted  to  the  astounding  sum  of 
$500,000.  Great  pomp  and  ceremony  were  preserved  in 
order  to  render  the  services  imposing  in  the  eyes  of  the  mul 
titude.  No  pains  were  spared  to  make  the  offices  of  the 
Reformed  church  respectable  among  all  classes,  and  the  im 
mense  expense  incurred  in  their  endowment  caused  them  to 
be  eagerly  sought  for  by  the  aristocracy.  In  this  gorgeous 
worship,  religion  lacks  nothing  but  its  devotion,  the  creed  is 
only  deficient  in  sincerity.  It  is  maintained  at  an  expense 
equal  to  that  of  all  the  other  Christian  denominations  in  the 
world.  It  is  supposed  that  the  support  of  the  Church  of 
England  annually  costs  the  government  £9,459,565,  whilst 
all  the  Christians  of  the  rest  of  the  world  pay  to  their  minis- 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          29*7 

ters  but  £9,949,000.  It  seems,  therefore,  that  the  High 
Church  of  England,  with  6.500,000  hearers,  requires  for  its 
maintenance  as  great  an  expense  as  all  the  other  forms  of 
Christianity  in  the  universe,  with  203,728.000  hearers.  It  is 
a  favorite  theme  with  High-churchmen  to  descant  upon  the 
splendid  displays  and  absurd  extravagance  in  the  adminis 
tration  of  the  Catholic  church,  but  on  examination  it  will  be 
found  that  the  Reformed  Church  of  England  costs  the  peo 
ple  40  times  as  much  to  every  million  of  hearers,  as  the  ad 
ministration  of  Papacy  in  France,  to  the  same  number  of 
hearers.  The  monstrous  excess  in  the  pay  of  the  English 
clergy  appears  from  comparing  their  incomes  with  those  of 
dignitaries  of  corresponding  rank  in  other  countries.  The 
pay  of  a  Bishop  in  France  is  $3,125,  and  that  of  a  rector  is 
$250.  In  Rome  the  income  of  a  Cardinal,  next  in  dignity 
to  the  Pope,  $2.500  ;  that  of  a  rector  of  a  parish  $1 50.  But 
in  England  many  of  the  Bishops  have  been  receiving  over 
$100.000,  whilst  we  have  seen  that  the  income  of  one 
amounted  to  half  a  million  ;  and  there  are  rectories  in  that 
country  valued  at  $40,000  and  $50,000.  We  very  naturally 
suppose  that  extraordinary  devotion  among  the  people,  or 
the  vastly  superior  religious  instruction  afforded  by  their  pas 
tors,  must  demand  this  amazing  preponderance  in  the  pay  of 
the  English  clergy.  But  we  have  already  seen  that  there 
are  more  than  one  thousand  benefices,  in  which  religious 
services  are  utterly  neglected,  and  we  can  entertain  no  very 
high  opinion  of  the  pious  solicitude  of  the  people,  who  sub 
mit  to  the  appointment  of  their  pastor  by  the  owner  of  the 
manor,  with  the  same  indifference  they  might  be  supposed  to 
feel  about  his  selection  of  a  horse  for  a  fox-hunt. 

I  contend  that  this  outrageously  wasteful  extravagance 

in  the  church  establishment,  is  not  simply  an  oppression  to 

an  already  overloaded  people,  but  that  it  deprives  them  of 

proper  religious  teaching,  by  inducing  ambitious  worldlings 

13* 


298  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

to  sue  for  the  positions  which  Heaven  intended  for  the 
pious  and  lowly.  But  we  are  informed  that  this  enormous 
outlay  is  essential  to  the  dignity  of  the  church.  If  the  sim 
ple  majesty  of  Christianity  had  been  insufficient  to  impress 
the  hearts  of  men,  it  would  have  proved  somewhat  difficult 
for  its  humble  founder,  born  in  a  stable,  to  establish  its  ten 
ets.  What  wealth,  what  pomp,  what  magnificence,  did  the 
apostles  carry  into  strange  lands  to  dazzle  converts  to  the 
new  faith  ?  The  glare  and  glitter  of  show  and  parade  are 
not  more  important  now  than  they  were  then.  The  unaf 
fected  devotion  and  active  zeal  of  one  devoutly  pious  pastor, 
would  command  more  real  respect  than  the  ostentatious 
profusion  of  all  the  pluralisms  and  non-residents  in  the  king 
dom.  It  is  the  cause  of  the  aristocracy,  not  that  of  Heaven, 
which  is  promoted  by  this  vast  expenditure  in  support  of 
the  Established  Church.  But  the  advocates  of  this  ruinous 
system  pretend  to  deem  parks,  palaces,  plate,  and  equipages 
indispensable  to  the  dignity  of  these  magnificent  prelates, 
whose  divine  Master  made  his  entry  into  Jerusalem  on  the 
colt  of  an  ass.  Mansions,  villas,  warrens,  and  manorial 
rights  are  thought  necessary  for  their  amusement,  whilst 
"  the  Son  of  man  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head."  Is  it 
strange  that  in  giving  to  the  bishops  the  wealth  and  posi 
tion,  the  government  should  also  give  them  the  worldliness 
of  nobles?  In  becoming  rivals  of  the  aristocracy  in  fortune, 
is  it  not  natural  that  they  should  become  their  rivals  in  ex 
travagance  and  dissipation  ? 

A  bishop,  ':  being  a  man.  must  feel  like  one."  When  he 
finds  himself  surrounded  by  every  refined  enjoyment  that 
luxury  can  invent  or  wealth  afford,  and  feels  compelled  by 
his  position  to  vie  in  sumptuousness  with  the  proudest  of 
the  land,  it  is  but  natural  that  his  thoughts  should  turn  from 
heaven  to  earth.  When  he  feels  that  his  money,  not  his 
piety,  gives  him  consideration  among  his  fellows,  he  must  be 


PRESENT    STATE    OF   THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          299 

more  or  less  than  man,  if  he  does  not  soon  learn  to  exult 
more  in  his  magnificence  than  his  lowliness.  When  he  dis 
covers  that  profusion  more  than  charity  purchases  the  ap 
plause  of  men,  when  he  feels  convinced  that  the  grandeur  of 
a  spiritual  lord  rather  than  the  devotion  of  the  preacher  of 
the  gospel  commands  their  respect,  it  would  be  strange  in 
deed  if  his  heart  did  not  sink  from  God  to  mammon.  World 
ly  affluence  soon  bounds  all  his  hopes.  Fashionable  pre 
eminence  becomes  his  highest  ambition,  parade  his  chief 
delight.  Such  would  be  the  result  even  if  these  holy  men 
had  been  originally  actuated  by  sincere  feelings  of  piety. 
Remember  the  author  of  the  proverb,  that li  it  is  easier  for  a 
camel  to  pass  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich 
man  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  But  I  feel  confident 
of  being  able  to  prove,  before  the  end  of  this  chapter,  that 
the  clergy  enter  the  church  as  they  would  pursue  any  other 
profession  which  promised  success  to  an  ambitious  man. 

These  worthy  bishops  piously  exhort  their  followers  to 
"  take  no  heed  of  what  ye  shall  eat,  nor  what  ye  shall  drink, 
nor  for  your  bodies,  what  ye  shall  put  on,"  whilst  they  load 
their  own  sumptuous  tables  with  every  delicacy  that  the  coun 
try  can  afford,  stock  their  cellars  with  the  rarest  wines,  and 
array  themselves  in  the  costliest  importations  from  France.  In 
their  lazy  dreams  of  sensual  enjoyment,  they  seem  wholly 
oblivious  of  the  scriptural  injunction  to  "  take  care  that  your 
hearts  be  not  charged  with  surfeiting  and  drunkenness,  and 
the  cares  of  this  life."  But  though  they  annually  squander 
millions  of  the  people's  money,  in  sustaining  the  "  pride, 
pomp,  and  circumstance  "  of  their  positions,  yet  I  must  con 
fess,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  that  in  obedience  to  the  com 
mand  li  distribute  to  the  poor,  and  seek  treasures  in  heaven," 
they  still  find  the  means  generously  to  feed  the  hungry  with 
religious  tracts,  and  to  relieve  the  wretched  by  praying  for 
them.  Who  can  henceforward  impugn  the  piety  of  a  Bishop  ? 


300  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

He  should  be  named  a  fountain  of  charity  as  of  grace  in 
England.  Who  can  now  pretend  that  when  the  poor  beg 
for  bread,  he  gives  them  a  stone?  If  a  haggard  victim  of 
disease  appeals  to  his  sympathies  in  behalf  of  a  starving  fam 
ily  at  home,  he  unhesitatingly  presents  him  a  tract,  ingen 
iously  illustrating  the  beauties  of  faith,  in  the  touching  inci 
dent  of  Elijah  and  the  poor  widow,  with  the  handful  of  meal, 
and  a  little  oil  in  the  cruse.  Should  a  helpless  mother  im 
plore  his  assistance  to  bury  one  child  already  dead,  among 
her  others  who  are  slowly  dying  of  the  typhus  fever,  he 
piously  assures  her  that  she  shall  be  remembered  in  his 
prayers.  The  magnanimity  of  such  self-sacrificing  charity 
will  be  better  appreciated,  when  it  is  remembered  that  the 
tracts  are  gratuitously  furnished  him  by  the  religious  so 
cieties,  and  that  even  decency  demands  that  he  should  occa 
sionally  pray  for  the  health  and  prosperity  of  the  kingdom. 
The  poor  mother  is  probably  included  in  this  general  prayer, 
if  he  does  not  entirely  forget  her  application  a  half  an  hour 
after  she  quitted  his  door.  As  an  evidence  that  the  cases  in 
which  the  charities  of  the  bishops  might  relieve  starvation 
are  not  altogether  imaginary,  I  give  the  following  extract 
from  the  London  Observer,  made  during  my  visit  to  Eng 
land  last  summer. 

DEATH  FROM  STARVATION. — Last  night  Mr.  Brent  held  an  inquest 
upon  Jonathan  Nicholls,  aged  61.  Deceased,  whose  body  was  a  mere 
skeleton,  had  been  formerly  a -school master,  but  was  latterly  so  reduced 
as  to  be  compelled  to  earn  his  livelihood  by  writing  window  bills  for 
tradesmen,  and  with  all  his  industry  sometimes  only  realized  a  few 
pence  a-week.  The  parish  allowed  a  loaf  a-week  for  the  support  of 
himself  and  his  wife,  who  is  paralyzed.  During  the  last  twelve  months 
deceased  was  daily  sinking  from  sheer  starvation,  but  still  buoyed  up 
with  the  hope  of  getting  some  property  to  which  he  was  entitled.  On 
Monday  morning  his  wife  found  him  dead  in  bed  at  her  side.  The 
following  day  he  became  entitled  to  £120  cash,  and  .£f!0  a-year.  Mr. 
Luthcron,  surgeon,  deposed  that  death  resulted  from  %mnt  and  disease 


PRESENT  STATE  OF  THE  ESTABLISHED  CHURCH.    301 

of  the  lungs.  The  foreman,  on  behalf  of  the  jury,  expressed  their  hor 
ror  and  disgust  at  the  parochial  authorities  limiting  the  support  of  de 
ceased  and  his  paralyzed  wife  to  a  solitary  loaf  of  bread  a-week,  in 
stead  of  inquiring  into  their  wants,  and  contributing  a  sufficient  quan 
tity  of  food  for  their  support.  The  coroner  summed  up,  and  the  jury 
returned  a  verdict  in  accordance  with  the  medical  evidence. 

If  a  man  in  the  position  that  this  one  evidently  had  been, 
could  die  so  terrible  a  death,  how  appalling  must  be  the 
condition  of  the  millions,  born  in  degradation,  and  reared  in 
ignorance. 

I  wish  not  to  intimate  that  the  mean  privations  of  the 
ascetic  constitute  my  ideas  of  Christian  humility.  The  ter 
rible  lacerations,  to  which  the  solitary  enthusiasts  of  early 
times  subjected  their  weak  frames,  are  revolting  alike  to  my 
ideas  of  religion  and  humanity.  I  cannot  believe  that  cor 
poreal  punishment  prepares  a  man's  soul  for  heaven,  though 
inflicted  by  his  own  hands.  We  all  know  that  so  intimately 
are  man's  physical  and  intellectual  natures  interwoven, — so 
nicely  are  they  dependent  on  each  other,  that  intense  corpo 
real  suffering  will  turn  the  firmest  mind  from  undisturbed 
thoughts  of  heaven  itself.  But  leaving  the  excruciating 
agonies  endured  by  the  mad  devotees  of  the  desert  out  of 
the  question — simple  want  will  fill  the  most  magnanimous 
soul  with  its  own  selfish  repinings.  The  cries  of  nature 
must  be  heard.  Comfort  is  not  only  the  basis  of  all  kappi- 
ness,  but  it  is  absolutely  indispensable  to  any  concentrated 
action  of  the  mind  ;  and  so  far  from  those  numberless  little 
enjoyments  which  civilization  has  rendered  essential  to  com 
fort  being  inconsistent  with  the  beautiful  simplicity  of  the 
faith  taught  by  our  Saviour,  I  think  that  a  certain  degree 
of  intellectual  pleasure,  and  even  elegant  luxury,  greatly  in 
creases  that  contemplative  fervor,  which  every  minister 
should  bring  to  his  profession.  I  cannot  think  that  any 
pastor  could  faithfully  discharge  his  duties,  who  does  not 


302  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

enjoy  not  only  the  mere  necessaries  of  life,  but  many  of  its 
more  refined  indulgences.  The  mind  must  borrow  healthy 
vigor  from  the  body.  But,  surely,  the  clergy  of  England 
exceed  those  rational  pleasures,  so  necessary  to  social  con 
tentment,  when  they  surpass  the  richest  citizens  of  the  richest 
country  upon  earth  in  luxurious  splendor,  and  vie  with 
the  proudest  nobles  in  gorgeous  displays.  The  mind,  even 
of  the  most  pious,  when  constantly  dwelling  on  gilded  trifles, 
and  eternally  occupied  with  thoughts  of  pomp,  parade  and 
position,  must  sooner  or  later,  in  spite  of  itself,  imbibe  a 
worldly  pride  and  ostentation,  little  becoming  the  leaders 
of  a  great  church.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  Archbishop 
should  teach  every  member  of  the  Established  Church  his 
duty  to  his  Maker,  not  only  by  his  precepts,  but  his  exam 
ple.  .He  should  remember  the  advice  of  Jesus  to  the  rich 
young  man,  to  give  all  he  had  to  the  poor,  and  forsaking  all 
things  to  follow  him.  Notwithstanding  their  princely  in 
comes,  the  Bishops,  in  becoming  ambitious  of  rivalling  the 
richest  and  most  dissipated,  in  their  Bacchanalian  revels,  de 
prive  themselves  of  the  means,  even  if  they  retained  the  in 
clination,  to  perform  the  charities  which  their  exalted  rank 
in  the  church  and  enormous  wealth  give  the  world  a  right 
to  expect  from  them. 

I  would  have  a  clergyman  live  and  dress  like  a  gentle 
man  ,*without  committing  any  of  the  absurd  excesses  pe 
culiar  to  that  caricature  upon  the  species,  known  as  a 
dandy.  I  would  have  him  indulge  in  all  the  innocent  gayeties 
of  the  social  circle.  I  never  could  understand  the  gloomy 
fanaticism  of  those  who  would  have  religion  banish  every 
thing  like  mirth  from  the  human  heart,  who  would  fain 
make  a  smile  a  misdemeanor,  and  a  laugh  a  crime.  I  could 
never  satisfactorily  determine  why  a  sorrowful  expression 
of  countenance  should  indicate  a  pious  mind,  or  a  ragged 
coat  be  considered  an  evidence  of  a  holy  state  of  feeling. 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          303 

And  those  who  would  make  the  Sabbath  a  day  of  mourning 
instead  of  rest  and  cheerful  relaxation,  it  seems  to  me  have 
strangely  misconstrued  the  spirit  of  the  Scriptures. 

There  is  nothing  morose  about  Christianity.  The  hearts 
of  those  who  profess  it  should  be  filled  with  rejoicing  and 
good  will  towards  men.  Thrice  blessed  is  he  whose  soul  is 
gladdened  by  feelings  of  true  religion  ;  for  it  is,  after  all, 
the  only  unalloyed  pleasure  enjoyed  in  this  world.  Success 
brings  satiety,  excitement  is  followed  by  reaction,  but  the 
happiness  of  sincere  piety  charms,  when  "  pleasures  cease  to 
please."  It  but  beams  the  brighter  in  misfortune,  and 
will  throw  a  halo  of  ineffable  contentment  around  the  sad 
dest  soul.  Joy  as  naturally  springs  from  religion,  as  his 
matinal  carol  from  the  lark.  At  the  birth  of  our  Saviour 
they  came  into  the  world  together,  "  when  the  good  tidings 
of  great  joy"  were  announced  to  the  shepherds  in  the  witch 
ing  minstrelsy  of  rejoicing  angels.  The  doleful  looks  and 
dismal  groans  of  the  mistaken  zealots,  who  delight,  in  pro 
fessing  religion,  to  play  the  profound  mummery  of  woe,  have 
always  seemed  to  me  as  absurd  as  unnatural. 

The  twenty-four  Bishops  and  two  Archbishops  of  Eng 
land  are  a  burden,  as  oppressive  as  unnecessary  to  the  peo 
ple.  How  have  they  changed  the  simple  form  of  worship, 
preached  by  the  followers  of  our  Saviour !  They  have  sub 
stituted  ostentation  for  humility,  worldliness  for  devotion. 
They  promise  vile  lucre,  rather  than  heavenly  glory,  as  a 
reward  to  the  faithful  servants  of  the  church.  They  have 
made  religion  a  burden,  instead  of  a  blessing,  to  the  peo 
ple.  What  opinion  must  wo  entertain  of  the  usefulness  of 
a  church,  whose  principle  is  avarice,  and  whose  practice  is 
tyranny  ?  Selfishness,  not  charity,  animates  the  bosoms  of 
the  Bishops.  They  persist  in  defending  the  hoary  abuses 
of  the  church,  for  the  worldly  advantage  of  themselves  and 
their  relations,  though  they  fall  with  crushing  weight  on  the 


304  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

widow  and  the  orphan.  They  are  the  modern  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  loving  the  high  places  at  feasts  and  in  the  syna 
gogue.  The  applause  of  men,  rather  than  the  silent  appro-- 
bation  of  God.  animates  them  to  do  good  deeds.  They  de 
light  to  pray  aloud,  and  to  do  their  alms  before  men.  Their 
souls  are  absorbed  in  the  accumulation  of  wealth,  and  their 
minds  busied  in  providing  rich  livings  for  their  relatives 
and  friends.  Their  dioceses  should  be  abolished,  and  their 
mitres  broken.  They  should  be  driven  from  the  church,  as 
the  money-changers  and  those  who  sold  doves  were  expelled 
from  the  Temple  by  our  Saviour  ;  for  they  have  filled  the 
house  of  God  with  the  tumult  of  traffic,  and  made  the  sacred 
offices  of  religion  a  trade. 

What  are  the  duties  of  the  Bishops  and  Archbishops, 
that  they  should  be  so  liberally  pensioned  from  the  pockets 
of  the  people  ?  The  Bishops  do  not  preach.  They  never 
see"  the  clergymen  over  whom  they  are  appointed  oftener 
than  once  in  three  years,  when  they  make  a  hurried  visit  to 
the  principal  towns  of  their  dioceses.  But,  even  if  they  were 
most  inclined  conscientiously  to  fulfil  the  duties  of  their 
stations,  they  are  compelled  to  be  absent  from  their  dioceses 
at  least  five  months  of  every  year,  to  occupy  their  seats 
among  the  hereditary  lawgivers  of  the  land  in  the  House  of 
Lords.  They  have  no  real  authority  to  correct  the  abuses 
of  the  parochial  clergy.  Indeed,  they  rather  encourage,  by 
their  own  appointments,  the  fatal  practice  of  non-residence 
and  pluralities,  which  last  the  canons  of  the  church  denounce 
as  "execrable  before  God."  Should  a  Bishop  bring  a  de 
linquent  minister  before  his  court,  and  convict  him,  the  min 
ister  snaps  his  fingers  at  the  decree,  and  claims  his  living  as 
his  freehold — too  often  a  purchased  one.  If  an  effort  is 
made  to  carry  the  sentence  into  effect,  the  guilty  clergyman 
appeals  from  court  to  court,  till  at  last  he  casts  the  charges 
on  the  Bishop,  when  they  have  been  swelled  to  such  an 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          305 

amount,  as  effectually  to  prevent  the  Right  Reverend  Gen 
tleman's  trying  so  expensive  an  experiment  for  the  future. 
The  Archbishops  are  still  more  useless.  They  do  not  ap 
point  the  Bishops,  nor  can  they  remove  them.  They  cannot 
even  call  them  together  in  convocation,  without  the  sove 
reign's  concurrence.  It  is  true  that  the  Archbishop  of  Can 
terbury  is  called  upon  to  anoint  the  monarch,  should  a  coro 
nation  occur,  and  that  he  is  expected  to  christen  the  royal 
offspring.  But,  surely,  one  coronation  during  his  incum 
bency,  and  a  christening  every  year,  which  sometimes  hap 
pens,  ought  scarcely  to  entitle  his  Grace  of  Canterbury  to 
the  luxury  of  Lambeth  Palace,  and  an  income  of  $75,000 
a  year.  But  the  performance  of  religious  duties  seems  to 
be  as  little  looked  for,  as  piety  in  the  twenty-six  spiritual 
Lords  of  Great  Britain.  Pelf  and  power  engross  all  their 
solicitude.  They  count  their  enormous  revenues,  dispense 
rich  livings  and  fat  sinecures  to  their  relations  and  depend 
ants, — silently  vote,  in  their  places  in  Parliament,  for  every 
oppressive  measure  proposed  by  the  existing  government, 
and  their  duty  is  done. 

To  illustrate  the  tender  consideration  of  the  Bishops  for 
the  members  of  their  own  families,  in  generously  bestowing 
on  them  rich  livings  and  sinecures,  in  defiance  of  the  strin 
gent  laws  of  the  Church  against  non-residents  and  plural- 
ists,  I  beg  to  call  the  attention  of  my  readers  to  the  case  of 
the  Right  Rev.  Mr.  Sparke,  Bishop  of  Ely.  By  a  series  of 
forced  resignations  and  translations,  it  was  finally  arranged 
so  that  "  the  Rev.  J.  Henry  Sparke  held  at  the  same  time 
the  living  of  Leverington,  the  sinecure  rectory  of  Little- 
burg,  the  living  of  Bexwell,  and  a  prebendal  stall  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Ely  :  he  was,  besides,  steward  of  all  his  father's 
manorial  courts,  and  Chancellor  of  the  diocese.  The  esti 
mated  annual  value  of  the  whole,  $22,500." 

"  The  Rev.  Henry  Fardell,  the  Bishop's  son-in-law,  held 


306  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  living  of  Waterbeach,  the  vicarage  of  Wisbech,  and  a 
prebendal  stall  in  Ely  Cathedral.  The  estimated  annual 
value  of  his  preferments  $18.500.'' 

"  The  Rev.  Edward  Sparke  held  the  consolidated  livings 
of  St.  May  and  St.  Nicholas,  Feltwell,  the  vicarage  of  Lit- 
tleport  and  a  prebendal  stall  in  Ely  ;  he  was  Register  of  the 
diocese  and  Examining  Chaplain  to  his  father.  The  esti 
mated  annual  value  of  his  appointments  not  less  than 
$20,000." 

"  The  Bishop's  see  of  Ely  and  dependencies— $138,710. 
Total  income  of  the  Sparke  family— $199.710." 

Quite  a  comfortable  little  family  arrangement.  We 
shall  give  Prettyman,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  as  another  in 
stance  of  this  charming  system.  It  could  never  be  objected 
to  him,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  following  list,  that  his 
children  were  left  destitute  in  the  world. 

"  G.  T.  PRETTYMAN  ; 

Chancellor  and  Canon  Residentiary  of  Lincoln  ; 
Prebendary  of  Winchester; 
Rector  of  St.  Giles,  Chalfont ; 
Rector  of  Wheat-Hampstead ; 
Rector  of  Harpendon." 

"  RICHARD  PRETTYMAN  ; 

Precentor  and  Canon  Residentiary  of  Lincoln ; 
Rector  of  Middleton,  Stoney ; 
Rector  of  Walgrave ; 
Vicar  of  Hannington ; 
Rector  of  Wroughton." 

"  JOHN  PRETTYMAN  ; 
Prebendary  of  Lincoln ; 
Rector  of  Sherrington ; 
Rector  of  Winwick." 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          307 

The  profuse  liberality  of  these  Reverend  prelates  will 
be  properly  appreciated,  when  it  is  remembered  at  what- 
sacrifices  it  was  indulged.  The  oaths  that  were  violated, 
arid  the  pangs  of  conscience  that  were  braved,  in  order  to 
make  these  hopeful  young  sons  rich,  should  render  the  con 
duct  of  their  pious  fathers  doubly  praiseworthy.  It  is  a  man's 
first  duty  to  provide  for  his  family.  The  Bishop's  "  charity 
has  improved  on  the  proverb,  and  ended  where  it  began." 
I  give  these  two  instances  of  a  practice,  universal  among 
the  Bishops,  of  concentrating  in  the  persons  of  their  imme 
diate  relations  the  most  valuable  livings  in  the  church. 
How  lenient  ought  we  to  be  to  the  peccadilloes  of  the  sub 
ordinate  clergy  of  a  church,  whose  heads  so  unhesitatingly 
violate  its  most  solemn  edicts  against  non-residence  and 
pluralities. 

The  inequality  in  the  value  of  the  sees  is  another  fruitful 
source  of  abuses  in  the  church.  It  is  an  ingenious  contriv 
ance  of  the  government  to  support  that  huge  fabric  of  corrup 
tion.  Though  certain  of  finding  these  churchmen  the  most 
active  enemies  to  reform,  as  they  have  ever  been  the  ablest 
supporters  of  oppression,  bigotry  and  persecution,  yet  un 
willing  to  confide  wholly  in  the  power  of  depraved  disposi 
tions,  the  government  has  united  the  interest  of  the  Bish 
ops  to  their  natural  proneness  to  evil,  and  holds  out  the  pro 
motion  to  the  wealthier  sees,  as  an  enticing  reward  for  their 
treachery  to  the  people,  and  apostacy  to  God.  A  Bishop 
never  feels  fixed  till  he  has  obtained  one  of  the  richer  prizes 
of  Canterbury,  Winchester,  London  or  Ety.  The  exciting 
hopes  and  fears,  the  eternal  intrigues  and  worldly  coali 
tions,  which  must  be  resorted  to  in  order  to  run  the  scale  of 
church  preferments,  are  but  little  in  accordance  with  the 
quiet  devotion  and  humility  of  a  devout  Christian.  The 
power  which  the  government  possesses  of  translating  Bish 
ops  from  one  see  to  another,  makes  them  the  most  servile  of 


308  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

legislators.  Their  anxiety  to  curry  court  favor,  sufficient  to 
promote  their  ambitious  views,  unfits  them  for  their  secular 
duties.  They  and  their  clergy  have  always  been  hostile  to 
the  rights  of  the  people  ;  they  have  always  been  opposed  to 
progress  and  reform ;  and  have  ever  been  the  zealous  sup 
porters  of  every  tyrannical  measure,  proposed  by  the  govern 
ment.  From  the  year  1778,  when  the  first  tardy  step  was 
taken  towards  the  amelioration  of  English  Catholics,  to  the 
final  passage  of  the  Catholic  Relief  Bill  in  1829,  the  oppo 
sition  of  the  Spiritual  Lords  was  united,  and  unwavering. 
From  those  earliest  bills,  introduced  by  Edmund  Burke  and 
supported  by  Mr.  Fox,  for  repealing  particular  statutes, 
which  chiefly  prevented  the  English  Roman  Catholics  from 
safely  and  quietly  enjoying  their  landed  property  ;  and  those 
other  bills  advocated  by  Mr.  Pitt,  in  which  the  free  exercise 
of  their  religion  was,  to  a  considerable  extent,  secured  to 
them,  and  several  penalties  and  disabilities,  under  which 
they  had  labored,  were  removed  ;  through  all  the  efforts  of 
Mr.  Grattan  to  obtain  for  them  their  elective  franchise,  and 
their  right  to  hold  seats  in  Parliament,  to  the  final  passage 
of  the  Reform  Bill,  10th  April,  1829,  the  Bishops  were  dis 
tinguished  by  the  bitterest  hostility.  A  law  which  increases 
the  social  or  religious  freedom  of  the  people,  is  as  certain  to 
be  opposed  by  the  Bishops,  as  one  which  confers  new  rights 
and  greater  power  on  the  aristocracy  is  sure  to  be  supported 
by  them.  Their  position  enables  them  to  do  much  evil, 
though  their  undisguised  worldliness  deprives  them  of  the 
power  of  doing  much  good  in  the  community.  The  advan 
tages  of  wealth  and  education,  which  they  enjoy,  secure  for 
them  a  dangerous  influence  in  a  country  where  gold  is  so 
much  worshipped,  and  education  so  little  known  as  in  Eng 
land.  Their  superior  intelligence  enables  the  clergy  to  re 
concile  the  people  to  the  most  ruinous  measures  of  oppres 
sion,  though  their  evident  want  of  piety  makes  their  religious 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          309 

instruction  fall  on  unheeding  ears.  They  are  the  servants 
of  the  aristocracy,  and  the  representatives  of  the  worldli- 
ness,  and  can  therefore  have  but  few  feelings  in  common 
with  the  people  and  devotion.  Instead  of  the  most  affec 
tionate  confidence  between  the  pastor  and  his  flock,  there  al 
ways  exists  an  ill-concealed  distrust  of  each  other.  There 
can  be  no  sympathy  between  them,  and  therefore  no  confi 
dence. 

When  a  Bishop's  mind  is  absorbed  by  the  assiduous  at 
tentions  and  servile  compliance,  with  which  he  must  pursue 
some  noble  patron,  who  is  to  recommend  him  to  the  notice 
of  government  but  fe\^  of  his  thoughts  can  be  reserved  for 
heaven.  No  man  can  serve  two  imtsters.  And  when  it  is 
remembered  with  what  tenacious  fondness  the  Bishops 
cling  to  the  emoluments  of  their  offices ;  when  it  is  remembered 
with  what  reluctance  they  have  given  even  the  vaguest  in 
formation  as  to  the  profits  of  their  sees  ;  when  we  call  to 
mind  the  frauds  in  which  they  have  been  detected  by  the 
commissioners  appointed  to  ascertain  the  amount  of  their 
incomes,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  determine  whether  God 
or  mammon  reigns  in  their  bosoms.  The  course  of  the  Bish 
ops  was  as  much  opposed  to  the  conduct  of  men  of  honor  as 
of  Christians.  Their  practices  were  as  dishonest  as  unholy. 
In  the  year  1830,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury's  income 
was  stated  by  his  advocate,  Dr.  Lushington,  to  be  $160,000. 
The  very  next  year  the  return  made  to  the  commissioners 
was,  gross  $1 10,000,  net  $95,910,  and  on  the  ground  of  pro 
spective  diminution,  it  was  written  down  $85.000.  Yet 
during  the  seven  years  ending  1843,  the  Archbishop  received, 
with  the  knowledge  of  the  commissioners,  an  average  in 
come  of  $105.t)00.  Such  a  proceeding  on  the  part  of  an 
ordinary  individual  would  have  insured  his  transportation 
to  Botany  Bay,  but  in  an  Archbishop  it  passed  over  without 
punishment,  and  almost  without  comment.  But  this  fraud, 


310  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

stupendous  as  it  seems,  is  far  surpassed  in  enormity  by  that 
practised  by  the  Bishop  of  London.  In  1831  the  Bishop's 
income  was  given  at  $69,645.  Between  that  year  and  1843 
a  small  city  of  elegant  mansions  arose  on  the  Bishop's  Pad- 
dington  estate,  calculated  to  produce  in  rents  to  the  future 
Bishops  of  London  $500.000  per  annum.  During  this  pe 
riod  this  prelate  had  granted  about  two  thousand  leases, 
and  yet  his  Lordship's  income  was  given  in  by  himself,  in  the 
year  1843,  at  $62,000,  which  was  $7,645  less  than  it  was  in 
1831,  before  a  stone  of  the  new  houses  on  the  property  had 
been  laid.  Surely  a  surplice  does  cover  a  multitude  of  sins 
A  Bishop  is  evidently  a  privileged  personage  in  England. 
"  Such  are  the  effects  of*  a  State-Church  on  those,  who,  be 
fore  they  suffered  the  moral  paralysis  of  ordination  and  con 
secration,  were  probably  men  of  average  virtue  and  honor." 

The  Bishops,  instead  of  being  distinguished  by  that  zeal 
ous  independence  of  spirit  which  characterized  the  conduct 
of  John  Knox,  even  in  the  presence  of  his  sovereign,  and 
which  should  animate  every  Christian  endued  with  a  proper 
sense  of  his  duty,  are  always  found  the  fawning  flatterers 
of  power.  "  Sufferance  is  the  badge  of  all  their  tribe." 
But  these  aspiring  sycophants  certainly  receive  their  re 
wards  in  this  world,  and  may  possibly  get  their  deserts  in 
the  next.  They  seem  to  be  well  aware  that  merit  is  rarely 
considered  in  the  distribution  of  church  preferments,  and 
therefore  pay  their  court  to  nobles  with  votes  and  influ 
ence  to  give  the  government,  who  are  to  advance  their 
spiritual  interests.  From  the  following  list  it  will  be  seen 
how  successfully  they  have  exerted  their  genius  for  servility. 
;-  Lowliness  is  young  ambition's  ladder."  How  many  men, 
from  the  humble  pedagogues  to  youthful  peers,  have  climbed 
into  being  their  mitred  equals,  in  the  House  of  Lords.  At 
the  same  period  we  find 

TOMLINE,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  tutor  to  Pitt. 


PRESENT   STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          311 

BETHEL,  Bishop  of  Gloucester,  tutor  to  the  Duke  of 
Northumberland. 

BLOOMFIELD,  Bishop  of  Chester,  married  into  the  Har 
vey  family. 

SHARPE,  Bishop  of  Ely,  tutor  to  the  Duke  of  Rutland. 

PELHAM,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  brother  to  the  Earl  of  Chi- 
chester. 

HUNTINGDON,  Bishop  of  Hereford,  tutor  to  Lord  Sid- 
mouth. 

HOWLEY,  Bishop  of  London,  tutor  to  the  Prince  of 
Orange. 

LAW,  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  brother  to  Lord  Ellen- 
borough. 

To  these  may  be  added  a  list  of  holy  gentlemen  who 
owed  their  advancement  wholly  to  family  interest. 

GREY,  Bishop  of  Hereford,  brother  of  Lord  Grey. 

POYNTON,  Bishop  of  Derry,  brother-in-law  of  Lord  Grey. 

RYDER,  Bishop  of  Lichfield,  brother  of  Lord   Harroby. 

BAGOT,  Bishop  of  Oxford,  brother  of  Lord  Bagot. 

YERNON,  Archbishop  of  York,  brother  of  the  late  Lord 
Yernon. 

If  the  trouble  should  be  taken  to  examine  any  other 
period  of  church  history,  the  same  senseless  favoritism  or 
unscrupulous  family  pride  will  be  found  to  have  caused  the 
advancement  of  most  of  the  higher  ecclesiastics  of  the  land. 

It  is  true  that  the  former  unlimited  and  exorbitant  in 
comes  of  the  Bishops  have  been  restrained  by  Parliament 
within  established  limits ;  Canterbury  and  the  larger  sees 
being  fixed  at  the  moderate  sum  of  $75,000.  But  when 
such  shameless  abuses  have  been  exposed  and  are  daily  being 
brought  to  light,  what  assurance  can  the  government  give  the 
people  that  the  same  disreputable  practices  do  not  exist  in 
all  the  sees  ?  Read  the  following  extract  from  the  London 
Daily  News,  made  during  my  visit  to  England : 


312  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

OVERPAID  BISHOPS. — Durham. — Salisbury. —  Worcester. — It  appears, 
from  a  parliamentary  paper  issued  since  the  dissolution,  that  in  the  six 
teen  years  during  which  the  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Maltby  has  been  Bishop 
of  Durham,  the  net  receipts  of  his  episcopal  revenues  have  been  £'>4'2, 
143,  and  that,  during  this  period,  he  has  paid  to  the  Ecclesiastical  Com 
missioners  the  sum  of  £180,127.  Deducting,  then,  the  payment  from 
receipts,  the  Bishop  has,  it  is  clear,  enjoyed  an  episcopal  income  of  up 
wards  of  £10,000  a-year  since  the  year  1836.  But  in  another  parlia 
mentary  paper,  issued  in  1851,  may  be  found  the  opinion  of  the  law 
officers  of  the  crown  given  in  1836 — the  present  Chief  Justice  of  Eng 
land  having  been  one  of  them — that  "the  distinct  object  of  the  legis 
lature  ap'pears  to  us  to  have  been,  that  the  sum  payable  by  the  Bishop 
of  Durham  should  be  fixed  in  the  first  instance  at  an  amount  calculat 
ed  in  the  judgment  of  the  Commissioners  to  leave  him  a  net  revenue  of 
£8,000,  and  that  this  income  should  remain  fixed  during  his  incumben 
cy."  Now,  this  interpretation  of  the  act  has  never  been  impeached  or 
doubted  by  Dr.  Maltby.  It  follows,  therefore,  that  that  right  reverend 
prelate  has,  in  the  last  sixteen  years,  received  from  the  see  of  Durham 
at  least  £32,000  more  than  it  was  "the  distinct  object  of  the  legislature  " 
he  should  receive.  From  the  same  paper,  it  appears,  that  in  the  first 
fifteen  years'  incumbency  of  the  see  of  Salisbury  by  Dr.  Denison,  he 
has  received  the  net  sum  of  £93,954,  or  about  £6,263  a  year.  Now,  in 
the  Blue  Book  issued  last  year,  may  also  be  found  an  opinion  given  by 
the  present  Chief  Justice  Campbell,  Lord  Justice  Lord  Cranworth,  and 
the  Judge  of  the  Court  of  Arches,  in  which  it  is  stated  that,  from  the 
plain  intent  of  the  legislature,  it  was  competent  to  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners  "to  charge  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  with  a  contribution,  if 
it  appears  that  the  annual  revenue  of  that  see  exceeds  £5000."  In  1837, 
after  this  opinion  was  given,  Dr.  Deuisou  wras  skilful  enough  to  induce 
the  Commissioners  to  come  to  the  opinion  that  the  average  income  of 
the  see  of  Salisbury  did  not  exceed  £5,500;  and  therefore  the  Commis 
sioners  did  "  not  think  it  right  to  recommend  any  dimimition  of  it ;  " 
whereupon  this  fortunate  prelate  "expressed  his  sense  of  the  Commis 
sioners'  attention,"  and  from  that  day  down  to  the  beginning  of  1852, 
has  not  paid  one  penny  by  way  of  contribution.  As,  however,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  three  great  and  eminent  lawyers  and  judges  we  have 
mentioned,  his  income  during  those  fifteen  years  ought  only  to  have 
been  £5,000— equal  in  the  aggregate  to  £60,000— it  follows  that  the 
excess  received  by  Dr.  Denison  beyond  that  handsome  amount  has, 
morally  ind  arithmetically,  been  overpaid  him.  Now  his  actual  re- 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          313 

ceipts  have  been  £93,959,  whereas  they  ought  only  to  have  been  £60, 
000.  Clearly,  then,  on  every  principle  that  ought  to  regulate  a  Chris 
tian,  Dr.  Denison  now  stands  indebted  to  the  Ecclesiastical  Commission 
ers  of  England  and  Wales  in  the  sum  of  £83,959, — without  charging 
him  any  interest  for  the  time  he  has  had  that  amount  in  his  safe  keep 
ing.  Proceeding  from  Salisbury  to  Worcester,  we  find  that  Dr.  Pepys 
has  been  Bishop  thereof  for  nearly  12  years.  In  the  first  ten  of  those 
years,  his  net  receipts  reached  £79,418;  and  of  them  he  paid  over  to 
the  Ecclesiastical  Commission  £23,443 ;  leaving  him  £55,975  for  him 
self.  But  as  the  amount  of  income  contemplated  by  the  Act,  for  the 
See  of  Worcester,  was  only  £5,000,  or  £50,000  in  ten  years ;  Dr.  Fepys 
has,  it  is  clear,  received  £5,975  more  than  the  legislature  intended.  His 
duty,  under  such  circumstances,  is  plain  and  clear ;  he  ought  to  make 
restitution  of  that  balance  to  the  Ecclesiastical  Commission.  And  we 
make  this  suggestion,  and  request  that  Dr.  Maltby  should  refund  the 
£32,000,  Dr.  Denison  the  £33,959,  and  Dr.  Pepys  the  £5,975,  which 
they  have  received  above  their  fixed  income. 

Much  relief  was  to  have  been  afforded  the  people  by  the 
act  of  parliament,  fixing  the  incomes  of  the  Bishops.  In 
deed  a  great  hubbub  about  the  reformation  of  the  abuses  of 
Church  and  State  is  a  periodical  occurrence  in  England. 
Meetings  are  held,  addresess  are  made,  petitions  drawn  up, 
and  reform  !  reform  !  echoes  through  the  country.  Parliament 
opens  with  a  set  speech  by  some  patriotic  member,  who  in 
touching  strains  lays  the  subject  before  "  the  House." 
Resolutions  are  passed,  commissioners  are  appointed,  reports 
made,  and  a  bill  passed,  which  is  altogether  to  abolish  the 
doomed  nuisance.  The  expectations  of  the  people  are  natu 
rally  high,  their  rejoicings  exulting.  The  Relief  Bill  prom 
ises  every  thing  ;  it  accomplishes  nothing.  One-half  of  the 
amount,  received  under  the  new  law  by  the  commissioners, 
has  been  generously  appropriated  to  the  palaces  and  estates 
of  the  Bishops.  The  other  half  is  consumed  in  the  repairs  of 
cathedrals  and  parsonages,  and  in  the  salaries  of  the  com 
missioners  themselves,  and  their  swarm  of  satellites,  with 
out  whom  it  would  be  impossible  for  any  commission  to 
14 


314  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

exist  in  England.  How  much  better  would  it  have  been 
when  it  was  determined  nob  to  lessen  the  burdens  of  the 
people,  to  have  appropriated  the  accumulated  fund  for 
the  increase  of  the  livings  of  the  poor  clergy,  instead  of 
squandering  it  on  the  Bishops,  who  not  only  receive  enor 
mous  incomes,  and  have  palaces  furnished  for  their  conven 
ience,  but  they  must  have  vast  sums  for  beautifying  these 
palaces,  in  which  they  live  rent-free.  In  the  eight  dioceses 
given  in  the  list  below,  which  have  profited  by  the  commis 
sioners'  fund  there  were  502  benefices  worth  less  than  $500 
a  year,  and  85  under  $250,  whilst  many  of  the  Bishops  are 
in  the  annual  receipt  of  $75,000,  with  their  magnificent 
palaces,  and  estates  in  addition,  and  there  are  some  rectors 
whose  livings  bring  them  $40.000  and  $50.000  per  annum. 
These  Bishops  are  as  fatal  to  the  church,  as  ruinous  to  the 
people.  They  are  like  the  mistletoe,  which  saps  and  destroys 
the  tree  it  seems  to  adorn. 

In  1847  the  commissioners  had  received  $1,755,000,  of 
which  $715,000  were  lavished  on  the  palaces  and  estates  of 
Bishops  in  the  following  proportions  : 

Lincoln,                            ....  $263,520 

Rochester,    .....  127,635 

Gloucester,         .....  114,485 

Ripon,          .            ..             .  68,435 

Worcester,         .            .            .            .            .  35,000 

Oxford,        .....  32,345 

Exeter,               17,500 

Bath  and  Wells,      .  20,000 

After  such  an  exposition,  it  seems  to  me  the  people  would 
cease  to  be  gulled  by  these  mockeries  of  reform.  By  this 
wonderful  Bill  of  Relief  nobody  was  benefited  but  the  com 
missioners.  The  people  had  the  same  taxes  to  pay ;  and 
the  Bishops  were  not  allowed  to  dispose  of  their  former  in 
comes  as  they  pleased,  but  must  take  part  of  them  in  the 


PRESENT    STATE    OF   THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          315 

form  of  repairs  to  palaces,  and  improvements  on  estates. 
But  such  is  always  the  game  played  by  the  government 
when  acting  in  obedience  to  the  cries  of  "reform."  The 
new  statutes  merely  change  the  destination  of  the  amounts 
raised  by  taxes,  instead  of  removing  them  altogether.  The 
same  oppression  continues  to  exist,  but  is  considerately  dis 
guised  under  a  new  name.  Reform  measures  are  held  out 
as  a  blind  to  amuse  the  people,  as  the  crimson  flags  in 
bull-fighting  are  presented  to  distract  the  attention  of  the 
bull  from  the  armed  man  behind. 

The  Bishops'  antipathy  to  beggars  probably  arises  from 
professional  jealousy.  Having  discovered  the  advantages 
of  the  pursuit,  they  are  reluctant  to  have  it  crowded  by  too 
large  a  number  of  professors.  If  these  helpless  prelates 
could  be  tempted  to  preach  at  all,  it  would  be  to  utter  a 
tirade  against  the  vagrants  who  piteously  plead  for  a  penny 
in  the  streets  ;  whilst  they  themselves  complacently  pocket  a 
couple  of  hundred  thousand  dollars,  which  they  have  succeed 
ed  in  begging  for  beautifying  their  palaces.  The  different  man 
ner  of  receiving  these  two  classes  of  beggars  satisfactorily 
exhibits  a  strange  contradiction  in  England,  which  prompts 
the  nation  to  assist  the  strong,  and  abuse  the  weak.  The 
idolatry  displayed  in  England  for  every  thing  like  greatness, 
is  amazing.  A  great  scoundrel  receives  a  sympathy  which 
a  petty  one  could  never  hope  to  obtain.  A  mendicant 
Bishop,  with  palaces,  estates,  and  a  vast  income  provided  for 
his  support,  pursues  his  avocation  of  begging  with  honor 
and  success ;  whilst  the  starving  Lazarus,  imploring  the 
crumbs  that  fall  from  the  rich  man's  table,  is  scorned,  re 
viled,  and  even  punished  for  daring  to  ask  for  bread.  The 
rosy,  reverend  gentleman  of  the  Church,  whose  magnificent 
provision  should  place  him  above  the  degradation  of  alms- 
asking,  is  lodged  in  a  palace  ;  but  the  wretched  pauper,  who 
supplicates  charity  in  the  form  of  half-pence,  is  lodged  in 


316  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  house  of  correction.  One  begs  from  a  naturally  grovel 
ling  disposition,  and  is  rewarded  with  distinction  ;  the  other 
begs  from  necessity,  and  is  punished  with  infamy.  The 
Bishops  hate  beggars,  because  they  must  share  with  them 
the  mite  of  public  charity,  which  would  otherwise  fall  undi 
vided1  to  their  lot.  The  fortunate  recipients  of  thousands 
of  pounds  in  the  shape  of  charity,  they  arc  too  greedy  to 
abandon  a  few  paltry  half-pence  to  the  wretches  they  them 
selves  have  assisted  to  make.  In  the  collection  of  tithes, 
what  orphan  was  ever  spared,  or  widow  respected  ?  ':  Woe 
unto  you,  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  !  for  ye  devour 
widows'  houses,  and  for  a  pretence  make  long  prayers : 
therefore  ye  shall  receive  the  greater  damnation  !" 

But  when  we  remember  the  extremes  which  each  worthy 
Bishop  attempts  to  reconcile  in  his  own  disposition,  it  no 
longer  seems  wonderful  that  he  needs  the  charitable  assist 
ance  of  government,  to  keep  his  dwelling  in  repair.  A 
Bishop  would  be  ostentatious,  and  at  the  same  time  econom 
ical  ;  he  would  fain  be  lavish  and  saving,  would  appear  pro 
fuse  in  expenditure  whilst  he  is  sordid  in  practice.  I  know 
of  no  two  qualities  more  difficult  to  sustain  without  vast 
sums  of  money.  A  prelate  has  certainly  a  most  trouble 
some  task  to  accomplish.  To  sustain  the  dignity  of  the 
Church  he  must  vie  in  splendor  and  parade  with  his  wealthy 
rivals  among  the  temporal  Lords,  at  the  same  time  that  he 
secures  consideration  for  himself  and  provides  for  his  family 
by  hoarding  an  immense  fortune.  With  two  objects,  so  ex 
pensive  to  attain,  'tis  not  surprising  that  the  Bishops  should 
be  destitute  of  the  means  of  indulging  in  charity,  or  repair 
ing  their  palaces.  Gentlemen  oppressed  by  burdens  so 
onerous,  and  so  unusual,  as  their  own  dignity  and  their  own 
family,  could  scarcely  be  expected  to  do  any  thing  so  extra 
ordinary  as  repair  their  own  houses.  But  difficult  as  it  is 
for  the  same  individual  to  maintain  the  magnificence  of  an 


PRESENT   STATE    OF   THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          317 

English  prelate  and  the  economy  of  a  prudent  father  of  a 
family,  the  Bishops,  assisted  by  the  alms  of  the  government, 
appear  to  manage  it.  Sir  John  Newport  stated  in  Parlia 
ment,  that  three  Bishops  during  the  fifteen  previous  years 
had  died,  leaving  $3,500,000  each  to  their  families.  How 
little  this  looks  like  dispensing  their  salaries  in  charity. 
How  poorly  it  accords  with  their  weekly  exhortations — "  to 
lay  up  treasures  in  heaven,  where  rust  doth  not  corrupt,  nor 
thieves  break  through  and  steal." 

It  would  be  evincing  an  unbecoming  disrespect  for  the 
illustrious  example  of  their  superiors,  if  sleek  incumbents 
and  sapient  deans  did  not  display  the  same  grasping  greedi 
ness  which  characterizes  the  higher  dignitaries  of  the 
Church.  The  High  Church  principle  is  so  happily  illus 
trated  in  the  following  extract  and  table,  thlit  I  cannot 
forego  the  gratification  of  giving  them. 

The  frauds  committed  by  deans  and  chapters  have  recently  been 
shown,  at  least,  to  equal  in  flagrancy,  those  of  which  the  bishops  stand 
convicted  on  the  evidence  adduced  before  the  Ecclesiastical  Commis 
sion.  The  property  bequeathed  to  cathedral  churches  was  originally  dis 
tributed  by  the  donor's  will,  in  certain  exact  proportions,  to  the  various 
officers  of  the  cathedral,  to  grammar  boys  to  be  boarded  and  educated, 
and  to  other  poor  beneficiaries.  This  proportionate  annual  distribution 
was  devised  in  perpetuity,  and  all  deans  and  chapters  to  this  day  bind 
themselves  individually  by  oaths  of  awful  solemnity,  faithfully  to  per 
form  the  duties  of  their  trust.  Instead  of  keeping  these  oaths,  the  dean 
and  prebendaries  now  divide  vastly-augmented  revenues  intrusted  to 
them  chiefly  among  themselves,  leaving  their  weaker  and  more  depen 
dent  fellow-beneficiaries  profited  but  slightly,  and  in  many  cases  not 
at  all,  by  the  enormous  increase  of  the  property  in  which  they  have  a 
joint  interest.  This  shameless  dishonesty  will  appear  from  the  follow 
ing  table,  which  shows  the  original  as  compared  with  the  present  sti 
pend  of  various  cathedral  functionaries,  in  different  dioceses.  The  ex 
tension  of  the  table  to,  at  least,  twelve  of  the  richest  cathedrals,  would 
give  a  similar  result  ic  all — 


318 


ENGLISH    ITEMS. 


CANTERBURY. 


1542. 

1831  and  1849. 

£     s.     d. 

£     s.     d. 

300  0    0 

2,050    0    0 

40  2  11 

1,010    0    0 

10  0    0 

80    0    0 

400 

1     8    4 

6  13    4 

6  13    4 

ROCHESTER. 

1542. 

1840. 

£     *.     d. 

£     s.     d. 

100     0  0 

1,426    0   0 

20     0  0 

680  19    0 

10     0  0 

30     0   0 

2   13  4 

2  13    4 

6  13  4 

Nil. 

WORCESTER. 

1542. 

1840. 

£     s.     d. 

£     s.     d. 

133    6     8 

1,486    0     0 

20    0     0 

626    0     0 

10    0    0 

36     0     0 

2  13     4 

0     5   10 

500 

500 

ELY. 

1542. 

1840. 

£     s.     d. 

£     s.     d. 

120    7     6 

1,357    0    0 

20    0    0 

632    0    0 

10    0    0 

22  10    0 

368 

(7  at)    3    6    8 

G  13    4 

6  13    4 

Dean 

Prebendaries,  each 
Minor  Canons,  each 
Grammar  boys,  each 
Bedesmen,  each     . 


Dean 

Prebendaries,  each 
Minor  Canons,  each 
Grammar  boys,  each 
Bedesmen,  each 


Dean      .... 

Prebendaries,  each 
Minor  Canons,  each 
Grammar  boys,     (24  at) 
Bedesmen,  each 


Such  is  a  specimen  of  the  unprincipled  rapacity  of  this  branch  of 
the  Anglican  clergy,  and  of  the  corrupting  tendency  of  our  State-church 
system.  It  is  melancholy  to  reflect,  how  many  men  have  been  lianged 
within  the  last  forty  years  for  less  flagrant  delinquencies! 

Whenever  the  friends  of  freedom  and  reform  had  dared 
to  assail  the  holy  monster,  its  sordid  worshippers  have  never 
failed  to  plead  its  antiquity,  as  its  protection.  But  can  age 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          319 

make  abuses  tolerable  ?  Can  long  endurance  rob  oppression 
of  its  sting  ?  This  pious  horror  in  Churchmen  of  disturbing 
existing  forms,  has  no  doubt  preserved  unaltered  the  pittance 
originally  doled  out  to  Grammar  boys  and  Bedesmen, 
though  it  was  not  strong  enough  to  retain  the  same  exact 
ness  with  regard  to  the  salaries  of  the  Deans  themselves. 
If  the  poor  boys,  for  whose  benefit  the  charities  were  origi 
nally  established,  are  not  to  be  allowed  to  receive  more  than 
their  original  stipend,  the  surplus  revenues  would  have -been 
better  employed  in  alms  to  England's  three  millions  of  pau 
pers,  than  in  increasing  the  salaries  of  these  lazy  churchmen, 
who  apparently  have  more  belly  than  conscience.  But  it 
seems  that  these  antiquated  forms  of  the  church  are  only  in 
violable,  when  they  minister  to  the  selfishness  of  its  votaries. 
The  church  itself  is  only  maintained  as  a  convenient  and  re 
spectable  hiding-place,  where  churchmen  may  nestle  in 
corruption. 

The  delegation  of  political  power  to  the  priesthood  has 
always  produced,  in  every  country  where  it  has  occurred, 
bigotry  in  the  church  and  tyranny  in  the  government.  It 
leagues  together  two  powerful  accomplices  for  the  oppression 
of  the  people.  It  is  destructive  to  all  civil  and  religious 
liberty.  The  clergy  are  denied  by  our  government  all  par 
ticipation  in  political  power ;  and  wisely  has  it  been  done. 
There  can  be  no  liberty  .where  there  is  not  freedom  of  con 
science.  To  restrain  the  free  intercourse  between  man  and 
man  is  tyranny.  What  shall  we  call  the  attempt  to  coerce 
a  man's  communion  with  his  God  ?  A  man's  conscience  is 
too  sacred — religion  is  too  holy  to  be  subjected  to  the  con 
trol  of  human  institutions.  To  declare  by  law  th«  manner 
in  which  a  man  must  approach  in  prayer  the  throne  of  his 
Maker,  is  sacrilege.  It  is  exalting  earthly  things  above 
divine. 

The  unhallowed  connection  between  Church  and  State, 


320  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

as  unnatural  as  Pasiphae's  amour  with  the  bull,  has  pro 
duced  in  England  a  monstrosity,  with  all  the  hideousness, 
and  more  than  the  voracity  of  the  Minotaur.  What  can  be 
more  hideous  to  a  pious  mind  than  making  a  trade  of  reli 
gion  ?  What  can  be  more  revolting  even  to  a  worldling 
than  the  idea  of  serving  God  as  a  shopman  serves  his  cus 
tomers,  for  a  living?  The  church,  not  satisfied  with  the 
tithes  of  England,  which  are  annually  offered  up  like  the 
seven  chosen  youths  of  Athens  to  appease  the  voracity  of 
the  Minotaur,  extends  her  devouring  appetites  to  poor  fam 
ished  Ireland.  She  greedily  gleans  amidst  the  ruins  that 
famine  and  misrule  have  made,  the  tear-stained  means  to 
support  her  bloated  opulence.  She  wrings  from  misery  re 
luctant  contributions,  which  she  only  needs  to  minister  to 
her  luxury. 

Why  is  not  Scotland  too  made  to  contribute  to  the  sup 
port  of  this  magnificent  establishment  ?  Why  is  she  not 
called  upon  to  assist  in  filling  the  gaping  coffers  of  the 
English  church  ?  Rich  and  prosperous,  she  is  much  better 
able,  it  seems  to  me,  to  bear  such  exorbitant  demands,  than  the 
land  of  suffering  Erin.  But  no.  The  holy  fathers  of  the  church 
seem  endued  with  discretion  not  inferior  to  their  voracity. 
It  is  easy  work,  worthy  of  unwarlike  churchmen,  to  despoil 
poor  prostrate  Ireland;  but  Scotland  has  alike  the  will 
and  the  power  to  resist  oppression.  Her  strength  is  her  pro 
tection.  With  Christian  forbearance  the  Bishops 

"  Trample  on  the  worm,  but  pause  e'er  they  wake 
The  slumbering  venom  of  the  folded  snake." 

In  Ireland  the  natural  order  of  things  is  reversed.  The 
people  exist  for  the  benefit  of  the  government,  and  not  the 
government  for  the  sake  of  the  people.  This  unhappy  coun 
try  has  ever  been  regarded  as  a  safe  and  convenient  place 
to  quarter  needy  court  favorites,  and  useful  creatures  of  the 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          321 

crown.  Clergymen  take  benefices  in  Ireland  as  bankrupt 
noblemen  make  tours  on  the  continent,  to  recruit  their  ex 
hausted  finances.  Absenteeism  is  even  more  fashionable 
among  them  than  the  landlords  of  the  country.  The  Earl 
of  Bristol,  Bishop  of  Derry.  spent  twenty  years  in  Italy,  and 
during  that  time  received  $1,200,000. 

There  are  in  Ireland  but  half  a  million  of  Protestants, 
yet  previous  to  the  passage  of  the  reform  bill  an  establish 
ment  of  twenty-two  Bishops  were  sumptuously  supported, 
although  what  all  of  them  pretended  to  superintend  one 
Bishop  in  England  would  do.  It  is  true  that  the  number 
of  high  dignitaries  in  Ireland  is  now  reduced  to  two  Arch 
bishops  and  twelve  Bishops  ;  but  what  enormous  dispropor 
tion  between  the  extent  of  the  church  establishment,  and  the 
number  of  church  members  in  the  two  countries  !  What 
monstrous  injustice  ! 

The  value  of  the  ecclesiastical  revenue  of  Ireland  was, 
in  1834,  over  $7,000,000.  There  were  3, 195  places,  divided 
among  850  persons,  giving  to  each  an  average  of  more  than 
$8,000.  Thus  we  have  an  example  of  the  Established 
Church  in  Ireland,  claiming,  in  order  to  minister  to  the 
religious  comfort  of  one-fourteenth  of  the  population,  one- 
tenth  of  the  entire  produce  of  the  soil  for  the  support  of 
eight  millions  of  people,  in  addition  to  her  own  vast  reve 
nues.  Yet  England  professes  to  wonder  that  the  people  are 
starving,  and  the  country  is  depopulated.  The  attempt  to 
force  the  Established  Church  on  Ireland  has  brought  misery 
on  a  brave  nation.  What  change  have  centuries  of  oppres 
sion  effected  in  the  religious  opinions  of  the  country  ?  Ire 
land  now  presents  the  strange  scene  of  tithe-fed  clergymen 
without  parishes,  parishes  without  churches,  and  churches 
without  people.  Of  her  2.394  parishes,  155  have  no 
church,  and  not  a  single  Protestant  inhabitant,  and  there 
are  895  parishes  with  less  than  50  Protestant  inhabitants, 
14* 


322  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

including  men,  women  and  children.  But  the  payment  of 
the  pastor  is  as  compulsorily  exacted  in  these  parishes  as  in 
any  others.  The  following  table  presents  a  glimpse  of  the 
strange  state  of  things  in  Ireland. 

Members  of  Tithe 

Parishes.  the  State  Church.  Composition. 

Kilkalty        ...         13  ...      £400 

Ballyhea  .         .  .         .    15  .         .         .         .400 

Templeracarigy  .         .        27  .   •      .         .        498 

Ballyvourney  .         .     30  .         .         .         .    500 

Ardagh          .  .         .         14  .         .          .        GOO 

Whitechurch     .  .         .    20  .         .         .         .784 

Mogeesha      .  .         .         19  .         .        .        809 

Clonfriest.  .    35  .                           .   869 


173  £4,800  01  |24,300 

That  there  is  as  much  difference  in  the  amount  of  duty  as 
in  the  pay  of  the  Catholic  priesthood  and  the  clergy  of  the 
Established  Church,  I  beg  leave  to  call  attention  to  the  fol 
lowing  facts.  In  the  district  of  New  Erin  there  arc  4,500 
Catholics,  and  30  Protestants  ;  in  Donnes  Keath,  there  are 
5,700  Catholics,  and  90  Protestants.  But,  in  both  these,  as 
in  Kilcummin  and  Tollamore,  where  there  was  not  a  single 
member  of  the  Established  Church,  there  were  four  or  five 
clergymen,  and  but  one  priest. 

It  is  singular  that  in  a  nation  professing  to  be  so  ner 
vously  proper  as  the  English,  among  a  people  so  nervously 
tenacious  of  every  imagined  right,  the  present  system  of  ap 
pointing  clergymen  should,  for  a  day,  be  permitted  to  pre 
vail.  It  is  the  boast  of  Englishmen  that  the  accused  in 
England  enjoy  the  privilege  of  being  tried  by  their  peers  ; 
in  legal  questions,  touching  the  rights  of  property,  every 
man  is  allowed  to  select  his  own  advocate  ;  in  Parliamen 
tary  and  other  elections,  every  voter  can  freely  exercise  the 
right  of  suffrage  ;  but  in  the  question  of  salvation,  the  peo- 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          323 

pie  have  no  voice  at  all.  With  regard  to  life,  property  and 
franchise,  they  have  rights,  and  can  maintain  them  ;  but  the 
privilege  of  selecting  their  own  ministers  of  religion  is  de 
nied  this  self-styled  "  freest  nation  upon  earth."  "  What 
shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and 
lose  his  own  soul  ?"  But  the  souls  of  the  populace  in  Eng 
land  weigh  but  little  in  the  scales  against  the  rights  of  the 
aristocracy.  Their  church-livings  are  the  most  profitable 
portion  of  their  personal  possessions.  The  order  must  be 
sustained,  though  heaven  itself  be  forfeited.  For  the  most 
ordinary  duty  men  are  generally  selected  whose  zeal  and 
whose  talents  best  fit  them  for  its  performance.  And  the 
reward  for  its  execution  should  remain  in  the  power  of  the 
employers,  as  a  guarantee  of  good  faith  on  the  part  of  him 
who  undertakes  it.  These  are  simple  precepts,  recognized 
in  the  least  important  of  worldly  transactions  ;  but  in  min 
istering  the  holy  offices  of  religion,  they  are  scornfully  dis 
regarded.  Court  favor,  family  interest,  or  the  sordid  dispo 
sition  of  the  owner  of  the  living,  regulates  the  appointment 
of  every  minister  of  the  Established  Church  in  England. 
The  arrogant  proprietor  of  a  benefice  presents  it  to  him  who 
fawns  most,  or  pays  highest,  without  the  slightest  regard  to 
his  qualifications.  He  may  be  ignorant,  immoral,  and,  in 
every  respect,  repulsive  to  his  congregation,  but  the  laws 
are  inexorable  :  he  must  not  only  preside  at  the  desk  of  the 
church  to  which  he  has  been  so  arbitrarily  appointed,  but  he 
must  be  handsomely  supported  by  its  members.  There  is 
no  power  of  appeal  in  the  people.  The  unwelcome  intruder 
must  continue  a  life-long  burden  to  any  parish  on  which  his 
wealthy  patron  has  been  pleased  to  impose  him.  Should  such 
an  unwarrantable  interference  with  the  pettiest  bargains  of 
the  people  be  attempted  by  the  government,  it  would  be  de 
nounced  in  all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  as  a  heinous  offence 
against  the  liberties  of  the  subject.  But,  as  only  religion, 


324  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

and  not  money,  is  involved  in  the  outrages  perpetrated  by 
the  owners  of  church-livings,  they  not  only  pass  without  cen 
sure,  but  without  comment.  The  relative  value  of  salvation 
and  lucre  is  reversed  in  Great  Britain.  Though  the  aris 
tocracy  boldly  endanger  the  first,  they  have  not  the  moral 
courage  to  give  up  the  last.  The  patronage  of  church-liv 
ings  is  a  very  profitable  source  of  revenue.  What  consider 
ations,  then,  earthly  or  divine,  could  induce  its  surrender  ? 

The  titles  which  subject  church-livings  to  the  same  laws  of 
sale  and  transfer  as  any  other  personal  property  are  founded 
in  superstition  or  corruption,  and  should  not  therefore  be 
sustained,  llobber  Barons,  haunted  on  their  death-beds  by 
the  fearful  memories  of  a  life  of  bloodshed  and  crime,  had, 
in  making  rich  bequests  to  the  church,  prayed  that  sonic 
favorite  might  be  remembered  in  the  appointment  of  parish 
priests.  Or  intriguing  worldings  had  boldly  bargained  with 
unscrupulous  monks  for  the  rights  of  presentation  to  certain 
livings  in  the  church,  in  exchange  for  land  and  money,  which 
were  far  dearer  to  the  priesthood,  than  the  proper  adminis 
tration  of  religion  to  the  people.  The  acquired  privileges 
were  handed  from  father  to  son  till  the  Reformation,  when 
this  glaring  abuse  should  have  been  earliest  abolished.  But 
the  traffic  was  too  much  in  accordance  with  the  social  prin 
ciples  of  the  people  seriously  to  offend  their  religion.  The 
church-livings  were  still  considered  property,  but  the  titles 
were  piously  transferred  to  the  supporters  of  the  new  form 
of  religion,  and  are  still  acknowledged  to  the  shame  of  the 
Established  Church  of  England.  The  English,  with  their 
idolatrous  respect  for  birth,  could  not  be  expected  to  interfere 
even  with  abuses  made  sacred  by  so  holy  an  origin. 

The  church-livings  continue  therefore  a  fruitful  source  of 
corruption  in  the  government,  and  moral  debasement  in  the 
people.  Of  the  benefices  of  England  1301  are  assigned  to 
the  Bishops,  as  if  purposely  to  tempt  them  to  make  pluralists 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          325 

and  non-residents  of  their  relations  and  favorites,  to  the  great 
scandal  of  that  church  of  whose  piety  and  purity  they  arc 
the  responsible  representatives:  1048  of  them  belong  to 
the  crown,  to  be  judiciously  divided  among  the  propcrest 
tools  of  despotism,  who  are  required  to  propound  doctrines 
of  abject  submission  and  slavish  compliance,  instead  of 
making  the  pulpit,  as  it  was  during  our  own  glorious  revo 
lution,  the  fountain  of  liberty  as  well  as  religion.  The 
6,619  livings  owned  by  private  individuals  are  the  cause  of 
degradation  to  their  owners,  and  debasement  to  the  people. 
The  conscience  of  their  proprietors  is  seared,  and  their  hearts 
hardened  in  this  fearful  traffic  of  human  souls,  whilst  the 
moral  character  of  the  nation  is  debased  by  the  appointment 
of  unworthy  persons  as  clergymen,  whose  example  and  pre 
cepts  are  to  direct  their  religious  aspirations.  To  complete 
the  list  of  benefices,  982  belong  to  Deans  and  Chapters,  and 
743  to  the  Universities.  As  an  example  of  the  manner  in 
which  they  are  divided  :  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  alone 
is  patron  of  149  livings.  The  Duke  of  Beaufort  has  26,  and 
the  Duke  of  Devonshire  31  shares  in  these  holy  stocks, 
whilst  His  Grace  of  Bedford  possesses  32,  probably  in  con 
sideration  of  his  being  descended  from  the  virtuous  Duke  of 
Bedford  to  whom  Junius  addressed  his  famous  letter. 

Before  it  is  decided  by  the  parents  of  a  boy  whether  he 
shall  become  a  lawyer,  a  physician,  an  officer  in  the  army,  or 
a  member  of  some  useful  mechanical  trade,  it  is  always  de 
termined  whether  he  is  qualified  for  the  position.  But  the 
.dunce  of  the  family,  in  England  is  too  often  made  a  minister 
merely  because  his  stupidity  unfits  him  for  every  thing  else, 
and  because  his  family  happens  to  possess  the  necessary  in 
fluence  to  procure  for  him  this  easy  mode  of  making  a  com 
fortable  living.  Piety  is  the  first  requisite  in  a  clergyman, 
but  even  when  accompanied  with  the  most  brilliant  talents 
it  has  but  little  chance  of  preferment  in  the  Established 


326  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Church  of  England  unless  backed  -by  fortune  and  friends. 
Genius  is  altogether  unnecessary,  and  piety  is  not  expected 
in  her  ministers.  Not  the  religious  instruction  of  the  people 
but  the  pockets  of  the  owners  are  the  primary  object  of  the. 
presentations  to  church-livings. 

But  the  incompetency  of  the  clergy  which  must  inevita 
bly  result  from  this  faulty  mode  of  presentation,  serious  as 
it  is,  is  not  the  most  monstrous  of  the  abuses  to  which  the 
system  is  subject.  If  those  who  have  livings  in  their  gift 
would  confine  themselves  to  the  appointment  of  incompetent 
relations  and  dependants,  the  church  might  escape  without 
more  serious  hurt,  than  having  its  sacred  offices  ministered 
by  silly  but  inoffensive  people.  But  the  venal  instincts  of 
the  nation  prompt  the  lucky  proprietors  of  these  church-liv 
ings  shamelessly  to  dispose  of  them  to  the  highest  bidder. 
Who  can  wonder  that  the  church  is  disgraced  by  improper 
persons  as  its  ministers  ?  Though  Englishmen  might  deal 
in  all  else ;  though  they  might  sell  country,  honor  and 
friends,  it  seems  to  me  that  even  their  hardened  hearts 
ought  to  be  appalled  by  the  thought  of  making  a  traffic  of 
religion.  They  profess  to  despise  those  engaged  in  ordinary 
commerce,  but  their  delicate  natures  are  not  at  all  shocked 
by  this  sacrilegious  commerce  in  the  souls  of  men.  The 
value  of  the  article  dealt  in  probably  elevates  it  in  their  es 
timation  above  the  sordid  nature  of  other  branches  of  trade. 
A  banker  is  more  respected  than  a. merchant  in  England; 
and  I  suppose  on  the  same  principle  a  dealer  in  salvation  is 
deemed  a  much  more  honorable  sort  of  personage  than  a 
dealer  in  codfish.  How  can  the  people  reverence  religion 
>with  the  pious  adoration  becoming  in  Christians,  when  they 
see  its  holy  offices  bartered  for,  as  any  other  kind  of  mer 
chandise  ?  With  a  vicious  worldling  as  their  minister  is  it 
strange  that  they  should  falter  in  their  respect  for  the 
church?  When  they  sec  everywhere  the  forms,  but  seek 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          327 

in  vain  for  the  spirit  of  religion,  is  it  not  natural  that  the} 
should  learn  to  think  that  their  duty  to  heaven  was  accom 
plished  by  going  to  church  ?  Is  it  surprising  that  with  them 
piety  should  mean  a  gilded  prayer-book,  and  well-cushioned 
pew  ?  that  religion  should  consist  in  kneeling,  and  charity 
in  loud-uttered  responses  ?  Is  it  remarkable  that  they 
should  serve,  God  by  subscribing  for  a  finer  church  than 
their  neighbors,  and  think  they  obey  all  the  admonitions  of 
heaven  in  taking  the  sacrament  from  a  costly  service  of  sil 
ver  plate  ? 

But  when  once  ordained  the  ministers  of  the  Established 
Church  of  England  are  fixtures  for  life. "  Blackwood's  Mag 
azine,  the  usual  advocate  of  Tory  and  High  Church  princi 
ples,  has  candidly  confessed  that  "  a  clergyman  may  be  des 
titute  of  religious  feeling ;  he  may  be  grossly  immoral ;  -he 
may  discharge  his  duties  in  the  most  incompetent  manner 
and  lose  his  flock  ;  he  may  almost  do  any  thing  short  of 
legal  crime,  and  still  he  Twill  neither  forfeit  his  living  nor 
draw  upon  himself  any  punishment." 

We  are  assured  that  every  precaution  has  been  taken  to 
suppress  the  scandalous  sale  of  church-livings.  But  statutes 
have  been  multiplie.d  and  solemn  oaths  have  been  devised  to 
very  little  purpose.  It  requires  a  cunning  contrivance  to 
restrain  the  avarice  of  an  Englishman.  Upon  his  institu 
tion  a  clergyman  is  compelled  to  swear  that  "  he  gave  not 
the  least  consideration  whatever  either  himself,  directly  or 
indirectly,  nor  any  person  for  him  with  his  privity,  knowledge 
or  consent."  But  oaths  are  not  apt  to  be  binding  among  a 
people  where  religion  itself  is  so  little  respected.  The  fact 
of  a  man's  being,  willing  to  purchase  a  living  when  he  must 
do  so  in  violation  of  so  serious  an  oath,  should  be  taken  as 
convincing  evidence  of  his  being  unworthy  of  the  place. 
But  what  is  his  unworthiness  to  the  owner  of  the  benefice, 
if  he  pays  well  for  it?  It  is  his  anxiety  to  realize  the 


328  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

greatest  amount  of  profit  by  the  transaction,  and  one  man's 
money  is  as  good  as  another's. 

It  frequently  happens  that  all  decency  in  the  arrange- • 
merit  is  forgotten,  and  both  seller  and  buyer  are  present  at 
the  bargain  But  a  conscientious  gentleman,  whose  mind, 
more  timid,  is  still  haunted  by  the  spectres  of  the  outward 
forms  of  propriety,  will  square  accounts  with  his  conscience 
by  getting  a  friend  to  buy  the  living  and  present  it  to  him. 
His  own  money  makes  the  purchase,  but  he  does  not  buy 
the  benefice.  What  a  silly  contrivance  to  impose  on  sensi 
ble  people  !  Yet  it  is  sufficient  to  protect  the  offender  from 
the  rigors  of  the  law.  He  pockets  the  fruits  of  his  perjury 
but  whispers  to  remorse,  "  Back — back,  vile  demon  !  thou 
canst  not  say  that  I  did  it."  Under  a  system  so  vicious, 
men,  the  most  depraved  in  their  tastes  and  debauched  in 
their  habits,  may  become  ministers  of  God's  holy  word. 
They  have  only  to  pay  the  price  and  swear  that  they  did  not 
pay  it.  And  when  we  remember  how  sure,  how  profitable, 
and  how  respectable  an  investment  a  living  in  the  church 
is,  it  is  not  at  all  remarkable  that  such  disreputable  mem 
bers  of  society  should  be  eager  to  become  purchasers.  It 
seems  to  me  that  prayers  uttered  by  the.ir  vile  breath  could 
not  ascend  to  heaven,  but  would  hang  over  their  congrega 
tions  like  a  cloud  between  them  and  the  glory  of  their 
Maker.  This  is  not  one  of  the  Legendary  abuses  of  the 
High  Church  system  that  modern  progress  and  reform  have 
long  since  corrected.  This  is  not  one  of  those  crying  sins 
which  only  exist  now  in  memories  of  brawling  dissenters  and 
discontented  radicals.  It  is  an  affair  of  every-day  occur 
rence.  Church-livings  are  as  regularly  advertised  for  sale 
in  the  public  prints  with  a  florid  parade  of  their  advantages, 
as  we  would  advertise  farms  with  their  convenient  appurte 
nances.  In  support  of  what  I  declare,  I  give  the  following 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          329 

extract  from  the  London  Times  made   during  my  recent 
visit  to  England. 

TRAFFIC  IN  ADVOWSONS. — We  have  received  the  following  letter  on 
this  subject  from  "S.  G.  0."  (the  Rev.  Mr.  Osborn): — 

Sir — your  paper  of  August  5,  contains  an  advertisement  headed 
"  Xext  Presentation  to  a  valuable  Living  in  Dorsetshire,"  "  a  most  high 
ly  desirable  living,"  situation  "salubrious,"  "annual  value  upwards  of 
£700  per  annum,  with  a  capital  residence,  garden  and  pleasure-grounds 
most  tastefully  laid  out,"  "population  1000,"  present  incumbent  80  years 
of  age."  I  must  add  to  the  above  description,  there  are  two  churches, 
two  dissenting  places  of  worship,  two  resident  Roman  Catholic  priests, 
and  a  very  large  nunnery.  You  have  now  before  you  the  parish  of 
Spetisbury-cum-Charlton.  To  any  one  with  money  to  invest  in  a  cure 
of  souls,  can  a  more  tempting  speculation  be  offered  ?  By  the  bye,  the 
advertisement  adds,  "  the  rent-charge  is  easily  collected."  I  must,  how 
ever,  protest  against  the  course  which  has  been  pursued  to  obtain 
grounds  for  this  amount  of  temptation — i.  e.,  the  putting  in,  a  very 
short  time  since,  the  old  man  of  80,  who  for  many  years  past,  on  his 
own  petition  to  the  bishop,  was  declared  incapable  of  performing  duty, 
had  a  dispensation  from  residence  on  his  then  living,  and  was  not  insti 
tuted  to  this  living  with  the  least  expectation  that  he  would  reside  on 
it.  The  patron,  wise  in  his  generation,  has  done  the  best  the  law  al 
lows  him  to  do  to  make  the  article  suddenly  thrown  on  his  hands  of 
the  utmost  salable  value ;  the  Church,  to  her  shame,  has  per  fas  aut 
nefas  become  a  party  consenting  to  the  transaction.  We  have  been 
lately  cited  with  all  due  solemnity  to  the  solemn  (?)  work  of  sending 
proctors  to  Convocation.  I  was  not  able  to  attend ;  had  I  done  so — 
had  I  proposed  the  Rev.  Mr.  Baskett,  the  octogenarian  incumbent  of 
Spetisbury-cum-Charlton,  on  the  grounds  that  he  had  been  just  institut 
ed  by  my  diocesan  to  one  of  the  most  important  cures  in  the  diocese, 
and  therefore  I  had  a  right  to  presume  had  not  only  an  experience 
from  his  age  few  possess,  but  also  this  recent  public  testimonial  to  his 
worth  as  a  parochial  minister — would  any  one  member  of  that  solemn 
conclave  have  ventured  on  the  indecency  of  saying,  "  Sir,  Mr.  B.  was 
appointed  to  this  important  cure  not  for  his  capacity,  but  being  incapa 
ble  ;  he  was  not  chosen  because  his  age  gave  him  experience,  but  be 
cause  80  years  of  age  in  an  advertisement,  as  the  age  of  the  present  in 
cumbent,  makes  the  living  more  valuable  in  the  market ;  he  was  too  in- 


330  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

firm  to  reside  on  his  last  living — be  has  no  intention  of  residing  on  this 
one."  From  the  presiding  archdeacon  to  the  apparitor  in  waiting  the 
idea  would  have  been  scouted,  and  yet — so  it  is. 

From  the  following"  advertismeut  of  a  church-living  it 
might  be  reasonably  supposed  that  there  was  an  occasional 
Nimrod  among  the  holy  fathers  of  the  church. 

To  be  sold,  the  next  presentation  to  a  vicarage,  in  one  of  the  mid 
land  counties,  and  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  one  or  two  of 
H\Q  first  packs  of  fox-hounds  in  the  kingdom.  The  present  annual  in 
come  about  £580,  subject  to  curate's  salary.  The  incumbent  in  his 
COtli  year. 

Yet  the  pious  gentlemen  for  whose  avarice  these  adver 
tisements  are  intended  as  a  bait,  are  asked  at  their  ordina 
tion,  "  whether  they  feel  themselves  moved  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  to  take  upon  them  the  sacred  office  of  the  ministry?" 
Their  answers  are  of  course  in  the  affirmative.  But  who 
can  doubt  that  the  emoluments  of  the  living,  and  not  the 
"  Holy  Ghost,"  had  moved  the  zealous  candidate  for  church- 
preferment  ?  It  would  be  sacrilege  to  treat  the  more  serious 
concerns  of  human  life  with  such  solemn  mockery,  but  .the 
language  has  no  term  properly  to  describe  the  .profanity  of 
subjecting  religion  to  such  impious  practices. 

The.  Bishops  are  surrounded  by  a  swarm  of  Deans,  Arch 
deacons,  Prebendaries,  Chancellors,  Commissaries,  Surro 
gates,  Registrars,  Proctors,  Apparitors,  &c.  &c.,  to  the  end 
of  a  long  list,  the  only  apparent  object  of  whose  mainte 
nance  at  an  enormous  annual  expense  is  to  increase  the  pomp, 
and  expose  the  follies  of  the  Established  Church.  Cranmer 
has  justly  described  them  as  "  good  vianders  too  much  given 
to  belly  cheer."  The  Deans  and  Chapters  nominally  elect 
the  Bishops.  This  is  the  most  miserable  of  all  bad  farces. 
The  Bishops  are  really  appointed  by  the  crown,  and  the 
Deans  and  Chapters  hurry  through  a  form  of  forced  ratifica- 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          331 

tioii.  For  this  important  duty  they  enjoy  an  income  of 
about  $2,500,000.  But  useless  as  these  crowds  of  sinecures 
appear,  it  is  evident  to  the  close  observer  that  their  num 
bers,  the  absence  of  all  duty,  and  the  large  salaries,  make  them 
eagerly  sought  by  the  younger  sons  and  poor  relations  of 
nobles  ;  they  are  essential  to  the  prime  object  of  government, 
the  preservation  of  the  order  of  nobility.  They  materially 
increase  the  number  of  lazy  situations,  with  fat  wages,  adapt 
ed  to  the  tastes  and  indolence  of  the  younger  sprigs  of  nobi 
lity  who  are  habitually  quartered  on  the  people. 

The  Established  Church  is  a  double  curse  to  the  people 
of  England.  It  assails  their  freedom  and  interferes  with 
their  religious  instruction.  The  vast  revenues  of  the  church 
are  monopolized  by  the  Bishops,  dignitaries,  and  aristocratic 
pluralists,  whilst  the  curates,  the  real  ministers  to  the  reli 
gious  wants  of  the  people,  are  starving  upon  the  miserable 
pittances  doled  out  to  them  by  their  rich  patrons.  At  a  par 
ticular  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  church  there  was  one  indi 
vidual  who  united  in  his  own  person  eleven  livings.  But 
here  is  a  list  of  the  pluralists. 

Number  of  Livings  held 

Individuals.  by  each. 

1  11 

1  8 

5  r 

12  G 

64  5 

209  *4 

567  3 

2027  2 

Yet  it  was  a  violation  alike  of  law  and  the  canons  of  the 
church  that  any  minister  should  hold  more  than  one  living. 
The  outrage  would  be  less  flagrant  if  this  '•  simony"  was 
tolerated  in  order  to  relieve  the  holders  of  the  poorer  livings 


332  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

from  almost  penury  by  conferring  several  of  them  on  one 
minister.  But  those  places  which  are  most  greedily  pounced 
upon  by  the  aristocratic  pluralists  and  non-residents  are  the 
richest  benefices  in  the  church,  some  of  them  being  worth  forty 
or  fifty  thousand  dollars  a  year.  Every  pluralist  must  be  a 
non-resident  in  some  of  his  benefices,  and  the  majority  of 
them  enjoy  the  profits  of  several  livings  without  residing  in 
any  of  them.  Indeed  it  is  their  intention  to  accumulate  the 
incomes  of  as  many  valuable  livings  as  will  enable  them  to 
leave  their  parishes  and  dash  and  dissipate  in  the  fashionable 
circles  of  the  metropolis.  The  nation  are  thus  not  only  bur 
dened  with  their  enormous  salaries,  but  are  by  them  deprived 
of  the  advantages  they  might  enjoy  from  their  ministers  not 
being  rich  enough  to  live  much  abroad.  As  an  evidence  that 
the  English  sense  of  right  is  not  wholly  dead  with  regard  to  the 
monstrous  abuses  of  the  church,  I  append  the  following  ex 
tracts  from  the  comments  of  the  Times  of  August  last  on  Mr. 
"Robert  Moore,  who  in  his  own  person  united  the  rich  livings 
of  Hunton,  Latchington,  Eyncsford,  and  Hollingsbourne,  be 
sides  a  cathedral  stall,  and  the  principal  registrarship  of 
Doctors  Commons. 

A  great  deal,  as  might  have  been  expected,  has  been  written  and 
said  of  the  llev.  ROBERT  MOORE  and  his  emoluments.  The  discovery  or 
rather  the  public  announcement,  that  in  the  middle  of  this  19th  century 
there  still  existed  an  individual  possessing  in  private  fee  a  sinecure  of 
fice  worth  9,000?.  a  year,  a  rectory  worth  1000/.,  a  second  rectory  worth 
another  1000/.,  a  third  producing  GOO/.,  a  fourth  ISO/.,  and  a  cathedral 
stall  of  the  most  desirable  fertility  to  boot,  was  an  incident  well  calcu 
lated  to  arrest,  the  attention  of  the  public.  Such  visions  are  monsters 
of  the  old  moral  world,  and  are  gazed  upon  like  the  gigantic  fossils  of  a 
past  creation.  Mr.  Moore,  however,  is  pained  at  his  own  attractions, 
and  feels  hurt,  as  he  expressed  to  ourselves,  at  the  reflection  that  he 
"should  have  been  held  up  more  than  others  similarly  circumstanced 
to  public  odium,  and  made  the  subject  of  misrepresentation  and  exag 
geration."  Now,  though  our  first  considerations  are  due  to  the  inter 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          333 

eats  of  the  community  at  large,  we  should  but  ill  discharge  our  office  if 
we  rendered  less  than  justice  to  any  individual.  Once  more,  therefore, 
with  a  confident  expectation  that  we  shall  carry  with  us  the  opinions 
of  the  public,  and  with  some  hopes  of  extorting  the  assent  even  of  Mr. 
Moore  himself,  we  submit  his  case  to  a  fair  and  comprehensive  review. 

The  Times  appears  not  so  much  surprised  by  the  existence 
of  so  outrageous  an  abuse,  as  by  its  "  public  announcement." 
That  the  case  should  have  been  brought  before  the  public 
does  seem  strange  indeed,  when  so  much  pains  is  ordinarily 
taken  to  conceal  the  peculations  of  Church  and  State. 

When  the  fact  is  notorious  that  the  poor  clergy  and  the 
curates  perform  all  the  clerical  labors  of  the  Established 
Church,  what  object  is  attained  by  supporting  these  wealthy 
pluralists  who  do  no  duty  at  all,  unless  it  is  to  oppress  the 
people  and  sustain  the  fictitious  superiority  of  the  aristocra 
cy  ?  This,  however,  is  one  of  the  worthy  aims  of  the  British 
government.  If  every  congregation  were  permitted  to  select 
from  free  choice  its  own  minister  and  compensate  him  with  a 
reasonable  salary,  such  clergymen  only  would  officiate  whose 
piety,  whose  talents,  and  the  correctness  of  whose  lives  emi 
nently  fitted  them  for  so  responsible  a  position.  Worldly  and 
worthless  characters  would  be  no  longer  tempted  by  excessive 
pay  to  enter  upon  duties  so  holy  and  so  little  congenial  to  their 
dispositions.  The  people  would  be  freed  from  the  present 
crushing  weight  of  the  Church,  and  have  their  religious  cere 
monies  performed  by  sincere  and  zealous  Christians.  Plu 
ralists  and  non-residents  would  be  unknown  in  the  Church, 
for  pious  and  not  sordid  considerations  would  then  influence 
men  to  take  holy  orders.  The  people  would  be  improved  by 
the  unaffected  devotion  of  their  pastors,  instead  of  being  cor 
rupted  by  seeing  how  little  regard  for  heaven  they  have, 
who  have  been  called  to  preach  it. 

The  High  Church  system  is  unjust  and  oppressive  to  its 
own  members,  but  is  cruel  in  the  extreme  to  unfortunate  dis- 


334  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

senters.  It  impoverishes  them  by  compelling  them  to  con 
tribute  to  its  own  support  in  addition  to  sustaining  their  own 
clergymen  ;  and  it  outrages  the  pious  feelings  of  conscien 
tious  Christians  by  forcing  them  to  contribute  to  the  main 
tenance  of  a  form  of  religion  which  their  hearts  condemn  as 
wrong.  The  dissenters  of  England  form  no  inconsiderable 
remnant  of  the  population  whose  voice  is  naturally  lost 
amidst  the  joyful  songs  of  the  large  majority.  The  govern 
ment  discourages  every  attempt  to  ascertain  their  true 
strength  and  respectability,  and  affects  to  regard  and  treat 
them  as  an  obscure  faction,  the  smallness  of  whose  numbers 
renders  them  unworthy  of  being  listened  to  when  they  com 
plain.  But  those  who  have  had  an  opportunity  of  judging 
them  "  by  their  works"  must  feel  convinced,  that  if  they  are 
not  more  numerous  they  are  much  more  active  than  the 
clergy  and  members  of  the  Established  Church.  But  take 
the  county  of  Lancashire,  from  which  returns  have  been 
made.  It  was  found  that  there  were  590  dissenting  churches 
and  255,411  sectarians.  There  were  281  places  of  worship 
according  to  the  Established  Church,  and  the  entire  popula 
tion  of  the  county  was  1,052,859  persons.  Those  who  were 
numbered  among  the  sectarians  must  of  course  have  been 
active  members  of  some  congregation,  whilst  the  census  of 
the  country  included  people  of  all  ages  and  conditions  ;  this 
could  not  therefore  present  a  fair  proportion  between  the 
churches.  But  a  reasonable  calculation  would  enable  us  to 
conclude,  that  under  this  iniquitous  system  nearly  one-half 
of  the  people  were  taxed  to  build  churches  they  never 
entered,  and  to  support  ministers  they  never  heard.  The 
number  too  of  dissenters  is  daily  increasing.  Zeal  and  sin 
cerity  must  eventually  overcome  formal  hypocrisy.  But 
even,  when  the  religious  opinions  of  the  nation  are  wholly 
reformed,  the  wealth  and  selfishness  of  the  stubborn  aristoc- 


PRESENT    STATE    OF    THE    ESTABLISHED    CHURCH.          335 

racy  will  still  remain  an  insurmountable  barrier  to  reforma 
tion  in  church  government. 

I  have  attempted  to  describe  the  results  from  the  sordid 
system  of  sale,  prevailing  among  the  pious  proprietors  of 
church-livings.  I  shall  give  but  one  example  of  the  abuses 
of  which  favoritism,  in  the  presentation  to  livings,  is  capa 
ble.  It  was  the  original  intention  of  Cranmer,  in  his  code, 
which  the  death  of  Edward  VI.  prevented  from  passing  into 
a  law,  that  bastards  should  "  not  be  admitted  to  orders,  or 
livings  as  a  consequence,  unless  they  had  eminent  qualities." 
:'  But  the  bastards  of  patrons  were,  on  no  account,  to  be  in 
ducted  into  preferments,  if  presented  to  them  by  their  pre 
sumed  parents."  Had  this  provision  taken. effect,  it  would 
have  been  somewhat  unfortunate  for  the  Rev.  Lord  Augus 
tus  Fitzclarence,  the  natural  son  of  William  IV.  by  Mrs. 
Jordan,  who  has,  since  1829,  been  the  rector  of  Maple- 
duram,  and  is  the  private  chaplain  of  Her  Majesty  Queen 
Victoria.  His  Reverend  Lordship  happily  illustrates,  in  his 
own  preferment,  the  rather  loose  code  of  morals  acknow 
ledged  by  the  Church,  as  his  only  possible  claim  upon  her 
munificence  rests  on  the  fact  of  his  parents  having  outraged 
her  most  sacred  rite.  But  the  absurd  superstition  that 
"the  king  can  do  no  wrong"  maybe  incorporated  in  the 
religion,  as  well  as  the  constitution  of  England,  for  aught  I 
know  ;  and  there  may  be  no  particular  indecency  in  reward 
ing  the  profligate  bastard  of  a  profligate  king  with  the  holy 
office  of  minister  of  God's  word.  Those  who  will  call  to 
mind  the  chaste  vindictiveness  with  which  Queen  Victoria 
prosecuted  the  Lady  Flora  Hastings  affair,  must  be  some 
what  surprised  at  the  intimate  spiritual  relations  which  exist 
between  Her  Majesty  and  this  reverend  individual,  merely 
because  he  chances  to  be  the  result  of  a  caprice  of  a  royal 
personage  for  an  actress.  But  one  might  infer  that  Her 
Majesty  entertained  quite  an  affection  for  her  accidental 


330  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

relations,  as  another  of  the  Fitzclarences  enjoys  the  honor 
of  commanding  the  royal  yacht. 

But  the  legion  of  church  abuses,  which  now  make  the 
wicked  scoff  and  the  pious  grieve,  must  continue  to  curse 
Great  Britain,  whilst  money  is  regarded  as  the  chief  bless 
ing  by  the  nation.  Religion  must  always  suffer  under  sad 
disadvantages,  when  compelled  to  contend  with  avarice  in 
the  heart  of  an  Englishman.  Whilst  the  aristocracy  have 
benefices  to  sell,  and  younger  sons  to  provide  for,  the  church 
will  be  retained  as  a  cloak  for  their  dishonorable  practices. 


HERALDRY.  337 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HERALDRY. 

THE  mysterious  mummery  of  Heraldry  is  one  of  those 
farcical  superstitions,  still  tenderly  cherished  by  the 
British  aristocracy.  The  whole  power  of  the  English  gov 
ernment  is  exerted  to  make  this  venerable  absurdity  re 
spectable.  A  mighty  nation  unites  in  pronouncing  its  pedantic 
nonsense  the  wisdom  of  an  oracle. 

A  college  of  thirteen  persons  is  maintained,  at  the  ex 
pense  of  the  government,  to  practise  this  sacred  hocus-pocus 
for  the  satisfaction  of  its  subjects.  Each  member  of  this 
learned  institution  must  graduate  in  gibberish,  and  a  man 
must  possess  sheepskin  authority  for  indulging  in  Heraldic 
slang.  The  highest  importance  is  attached  to  the  edicts  of 
the  Heralds.  Their  simplest  fiat  becomes  supreme  law.  No 
court  of  justice  can  change,  nor  can  the  sovereign  himself 
modify  their  decisions.  All  classes  look  up  to  them  with 
equal  veneration.  The  low-born  regard  them  with  awe,  for 
it  is  from  their  college  that  must  issue  every  testimonial  of 
gentility  acknowledged  in  the  kingdom.  And  they  wield 
over  the  nobility,  as  keepers  of  their  pedigrees,  that  sort  of 
influence  which  a  father  confessor  obtains  over  a  man,  in 
becoming  keeper  of  his  conscience. 

The  college  has  retained,  with  its  defunct  technicalities 
and  outlandish  phrases,  something  of  the  barbaric  magnifi 
cence  of  chivalry.  The  three  kings-at-arms,  with  their  four 
15 


338  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

Heralds  and  six  Pursuivants,  still  play  a  conspicuous  part 
in  all  court  ceremonies  and  state  shows.  Arrayed  in  the 
gorgeous  costumes  of  their  order,  stiff  with  gold  lace,  and 
bedizened  by  the  grotesque  symbols  of  their  science,  they 
assume  the  stately  strut,  as  well  as  the  grandiloquent  lan 
guage,  of  the  middle  ages.  And  yet  the  multitude  seem  to 
discover  nothing  ludicrous  about  this  masquerade  of  exploded 
fashions,  in  which  the  Heralds  must  perform  the  solemn 
farce  allotted  to  them. 

They  profess  to  cling  with  fond  tenacity  to  Heraldry, 
as  a  lingering  remnant  of  chivalry.  I  delight  in  the  days 
of  love  and  lances  ;  I  love  to  dwell  on  the  heroism  and 
high-toned  honor  of  the  devoted  knights.  Embalmed  in  all 
the  poetry  of  its  nature,  the  tales  of  chivalry  have  always 
exercised  over  me  a  witching  fascination,  that  no  other  por 
tion  of  history  possessed.  The  souls  that  could  melt  to 
tenderness  in  silent  adoration  of  a  ribbon,  or  a  glove,  and 
yet  boldly  break  lances  in  the  name  of  the  fair  givers  of 
these  holy  relics,  have  always  commanded  my  highest  admi 
ration.  Devotion  to  a  woman  is  the  only  feeling  which  does 
not  become  absurd  when  indulged  to  excess.  But  chivalry 
only  lives  when  surrounded  by  the  atmosphere  of  fancy. 
As  the  beauteous  moth,  which  has  existed  for  ages  imbedded 
in  amber,  sickens  and  dies  when  its  sparkling  prison  is 
broken,  so  the  romantic  deeds  of  chivalry  become  ridicu 
lous  when  removed  from  the  bright  realms  of  imagination. 

What  a  storm  of  derision  would  assail  any  modern  Don 
Quixote,  who  would  insert  his  head  in  an  iron  kettle,  and 
wander  about  the  country  with  sixty  or  a  hundred  pounds 
of  pot-metal  on  his  back,  merely  for  the  fun  of  bloody  noses 
and  broken  heads.  In  these  modern  days  of  utilitarian  doc 
trines,  a  broken  head,  in  whatever  cause  it  may  have  been 
acquired,  is  considered  any  thing  but  ornamental.  And  a 
dinner-pot  is  believed  to  be  a  much  more  appropriate  recep- 


HERALDRY.  339 

tacle  of  a  Westphalia  ham,  than  the  cracked  pate  of  its  ro 
mantic  owner.  A  man  would  justly  be  deemed  a  fool  to 
risk  his  neck  for  a  smile  of  his  lady-love,  in  the  noise,  dust 
and  discomfort  of  a  tournament,  when  he  might  convince 
her  of  his  unshaken  devotion  with  so  much  less  trouble.  A 
lover  will  quaff  several  glasses  of  champagne  to  the  health 
of  his  mistress,  who  has  decorated  his  button-hole  with  the 
satin  ribbon  from  her  shoe,  but  he  could  scarcely  be  ex" 
pected  by  the  exacting  damsel  herself  to  shed  a  single  drop 
of  his  blood,  in  appreciation  of  the  honor.  Why  then,  when 
the  most  beautiful  portions  of  this  romantic  code  appear  so 
absurd  when  applied  to  modern  actions,  should  a  barbarous 
folly  connected  with  it  be  retained,  which  chivalry  itself  only 
tolerated  because  it  was  necessary  ?  For  then  the  mailed 
hands  of  the  thick-skulled  Barons  were  much  more  cunning 
in  the  use  of  a  lance  than  a  pen,  and  their  signet-rings, 
adorned  with  their  peculiar  coat  of  arms,  were  indispensable 
in  signing  important  documents  and  holding  secret  commun 
ion  with  distant  friends.  But  thanks  to  the  enterprising 
efforts  of  the  Dominie  Samsons  of  England,  the  Nobility 
can  now  indite  a  scrawl,  recognizable  in  the  courts  of  law 
as  their  legal  signatures,  and  raging  bears  and  rampant  lions 
have  ceased  to  be  necessary  to  represent  the  sign-manual  of 
these  respectable  gentlemen. 

Tilting  is  both  dangerous  and  laborious.  Platonic  at 
tachments  have  been  found,  upon  experiment,  a  bore ;  and 
the  English  gentry  have  something  else  to  do,  besides  wan 
der  about  the  country  seeking  whom  they  may  devour.  The 
romantic  portion  of  Knight-errantry  has  been  unanimously 
voted  a  nuisance,  but  Heraldry  is  retained  to  exalt  the  na 
tion's  vanity  at  the  expense  of  its  common  sense.  The  aristoc 
racy  require  the  College  of  Heralds  to  assay  the  old  nobility 
before  declaring  its  worth,  and  by  stamping  the  new,  to  give  it 
currency.  Although  they  themselves  must  feel  that  the  coin 


340  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

is  spurious,  yet  so  long  as  the  whole  nation  continue  weak 
enough  to  receive  it  as  genuine,  they  will,  from  feelings  of 
self-interest,  do  all  in  their  power  to  promote  its  circulation. 

The  fact  of  the  Heralds'  College  being  "  incorporated 
and  invested  with  many  privileges  and  immunities,"  by  the 
third  Richard,  forms  a  somewhat  remarkable  coincidence 
with  the  arbitrary  exercise  of  authority  by  that  institution. 
But  though  founded  and  professedly  sustained  to  preserve 
intact  the  precious  superiority  of  noble  blood,  over  all  other 
less  pure  sources  ;  although  its  chief  duty  is  to  treasure  those 
noble  and  generous  qualities  in  which  the  nobility  are  said 
to  excel,  yet  it  happens,  strangely  enough,  to  furnish  the 
most  indubitable  evidence  of  the  omnipotence  of  money  in 
Great  Britain.  „ 

With  regard  to  all  (i  scutcheons  of  honor  or  pretence," 
the  Heralds  are  absolute  They  provide  appropriate  gen 
ealogies  for  newly  created  peers.  They  decide,  without 
appeal,  who  is  genteel.  They  furnish  for  a  compensation 
ancestors  and  coats  of  arms  to  rich  parvcnues,  whose  fami 
lies  have  hitherto  been  unfortunately  innocent  of  such  ex 
pensive  appendages.  In  reference  to  all  these  matters  no 
man  dares  question  their  decisions.  "  But  the  evidence  of 
Heralds  to  support  pedigrees  is  not  received  in  courts  of 
justice."  Thus  we  see  this  sordid  nation  unhesitatingly 
trusting  their  noble  titles,  and  what  ought  to  be  dearer  than 
all  titles  of  distinction,  their  honor,  to  the  keeping  of  these 
bombastic  numskulls,  but  when  their  fiats  happen  to  involve 
something  more  substantial  than  the  confirmation  of  a  new 
title,  or  the  arrangement  of  an  imaginary  line  of  ancestors, 
they  are  altogether  disregarded.  Their  evidence  is  not  re 
ceived  in  courts  of  justice.  The  nobility  deem  the  Heralds 
good  enough  guardians  of  titles,  but  their  Lordships  prefer 
taking  care  of  their  purses  themselves.  The  shallowest  re 
searches  of  the  College  can  legally  enrich  a  man  in  all  sorts 


HERALDRY.  341 

of  ancestral  glory,  but  their  most  labored  efforts,  in  estab 
lishing  his  descent,  cannot  confer  upon  him  an  acre  of  land. 
Its  pedantic  certificate  may  give  or  take  away  gentility,  but 
its  most  solemn  oath  in  a  court  of  justice  cannot  interfere 
with  the  sacred  inviolability  of  cash.  This  is  something 
too  precious  to  be  tampered  with  by  such  empirics  as  the 
Heralds.  An  Englishman  esteems  his  honor  of  so  little 
value  himself,  that  he  is  not  at  all  apprehensive  of  being 
robbed  of  it  by  a  neighbor.  It  may  therefore  be  safely 
intrusted  to  a  Herald.  But  money  is  of  so  delicate,  so 
evanescent  a  nature;  is  so  highly  prized  and  eagerly  sought 
for,  that  it  is  believed  dangerous  to  confide  it  to  such  unscru 
pulous  guardians  as  the  College  of  Heralds.  When  ques 
tions  of  money  are  agitated,  all  the  learning  and  experience 
of  the  most  learned  professors  of  the  law  are  called  in, 
though  the  Heraldic  College  is  thought  adequate  to  deter 
mining  the  doubtful  quality  of  a  man's  blood.  Perhaps  the 
nation  are  right  for  being  a  little  skittish  of  the  most  vene 
rable  college.  The  initiated  are  too  familiar  with  the  ready 
means  of  procuring  for  wealthy  clients  Heraldic  evidence 
of,  I  care  not  what,  willingly  to  confide  to  their  decision  so 
important  a  portion  of  themselves  as  their  purses. 

It  is  well  known  that  any  man  is  entitled  to  the  Heraldic 
distinction  of  a  coat  of  arms  who  can  afford  to  live  without 
occupation  and  to  pay  liberally  for  the  honor.  The  king  at 
arms  may  at  any  time  create  a  gentleman  by  granting  a  crest. 
Indeed  the  Heralds'  College  may  be  described  as  a  whple- 
sale  manufactory  of  gentlemen.  Masses  as  incongruous  as 
the  contents  of  a  chiffoniers  rag-basket  at  Paris,  may  be 
thrown  into  the  extraordinary  Heraldic  machine,  and  yet 
nothing  but  gentlemen  are  turned  out,  just  as  paper  is  pro 
duced  from  all  sorts  of  rags.  Gold  is  the  principal  ingre 
dient  used  in  this  magical  process.  It  is  found  to  be  an 
acid  sufficiently  powerful  to  reduce  materials  however  rude 


342  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

and  vulgar  to  the  proper  consistency  for  the  manufacture  of 
gentlemen.  But  unfortunately  for  the  success  of  the  makers 
the  genuine  article  is  so  readily  counterfeited  that  they  are 
compelled  to  pin  a  label,  in  the  shape  of  a  coat  of  arms,  on 
each  gentleman's  back,  as  the  maker's  name  is  pasted  on  a 
vial  of  Jule's  hair  tonic,  to  prevent  impositions  on  the  un 
suspecting  public. 

If  there  be  any  thing  really  contaminating  about  indus 
trial  pursuits,  it  is  worse  than  folly  to  pretend  that  the 
Queen,  assisted  by  her  Heralds,  can  remove  the  pollution. 
If  there  be  any  thing  disreputable  about  the  manufacture  of 
soap,  or  the  brewing  of  beer,  what  must  we  think  of  the 
understandings  of  people  who  profess  to  believe  that  the 
Queen,  by  pronouncing  a  few  words  of  Heraldic  jargon,  and 
touching  a  shoulder  with  a  sword,  can  miraculously  purify 
blood  which  has  been  for  centuries  thickened  by  soft  soap, 
or  cleanse  veins  that  have  been  for  ages  muddied  by  stale 
beer  ?  The  candidate  for  gentility,  after  passing  through 
the  hands  of  the  Queen,  is  subjected  to  the  legerdemain  of 
the  chief  Herald,  who  gabbles  some  mysterious  incantation, 
and,  presto,  the  impure  sources  of  his  blood  are  magically 
made  worthy  to  mingle  with  the  Helicon  streams  of  the 
aristocracy.  Previous  to  this  juggling  lustration,  the  gen 
tlemen  of  England  would  have  felt  contaminated  by  any 
association,  however  formal,  with  the  vulgar  tradesman  ;  but 
the  instant  he  has  his  card  of  variegated  hieroglyphics  hung 
about  his  neck  by  the  Heralds,  he  is  deemed  no  longer  an 
improper  companion  for  the  aristocracy.  If  our  transmuted 
brewer  be  ambitious  of  ancestral  honors,  he  can  be  readily 
provided  by  the  Heraldic  College  with  a  line  of  doughty  fore 
fathers,  whose  extent  shall  be  warranted  to  bear  a  mathe 
matical  proportion  to  the  length  of  his  purse.  If  he  is  un 
fortunately  troubled  with  some  not  very  euphonic  appella 
tion,  a  sufficient  outlay  in  the  same  quarter  will  readily  re- 


HERALDRY.  343 

lieve  him  of  the  incumbrance.  Any  name  can  be  metamor 
phosod  to  suit  any  taste,  whether  it  inclines  to  the  heroic 
or  the  sentimental.  Hodges,  for  instance,  by  an  ingenious 
transposition  and  alteration  of  letters  by  the  Heralds,  may 
be  changed  into  Hengist  and  Horsa  ;  and  the  various  corrup 
tions  by  which  the  originally  heroic  name  has  degenerated 
into  plebeian  Hodges  will  be  so  minutely  traced,  and  satis 
factorily  established,  that  no  reasonable  man  can  longer  en 
tertain  a  doubt  that  our  plain  Hodges  is  a  veritable  descend 
ant  from  one  of  the  northern  demigods. 

It  is  strange  that  the  nation  should  continue  to  hearken 
to  the  senseless  prate  of  the  Heralds,  when  they  are  aware 
how  easily  wealth  may  procure  its  advantages.  Vast  reve 
nues,  judiciously  invested,  may  not  only  ennoble  their  pos 
sessor,  but  procure  for  him,  if  desirable,  new  name,  ancestors 
and  position.  The  Heraldic  College  is  certainly  an  ines 
timable  blessing  to  the  upstart  wealth  of  Great  Britain; 
since,  by  its  alchemy,  the  sordid  gains  of  a  vulgar  tradesman 
can  be  transformed  into  ample  possessions  of  a  proud  noble. 
But,  in  providing  an  aspirant  with  pedigree  and  coat  of  arms, 
all  metaphorical  allusions  even  to  the  past  pursuits  of  the 
new-made  gentleman  are  studiously  avoided.  This  is  an 
egregious  fault.  The  arms  of  the  fresh  aristocrat  should 
possess  some  allegorical  connection  at  least  with  his  manner 
of  acquiring  money  enough  to  purchase  his  distinction. 

For  an  enriched  and  lately  ennobled  soapmaker,  for  in 
stance,  I  would  beg  to  suggest  something  like  the  following 
as  an  appropriate  coat  of  arms :  Party  per  nebule  or  and 
vert.  In  the  sinister  base  a  huge  caldron,  gules  and  azure. 
At  the  honor  point,  an  ass  rampant-regardant,  attired  with 
bouquet  and  ribbons  of  azure.  In  the  dexter  base,  a  small 
patch  of  trefoil,  having  in  its  midst  five  peacocks  in  full 
pridz,  There's  a  touch  of  Heraldry  for  you !  Looks  know 
ing,  does  it  not?  But  why  display  my  treasured  lore  in 


344  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

this  ancient  and  profound  science,  when  nine-tenths  of  my 
democratic  readers  could  not  understand  me  if  they  would, 
and  the  other  tenth  wouldn't  if  they  could ;  and  yet  I  feel 
as  much  tickled  by  my  self-concocted  coat  of  arms  as  a  child 
with  a  new  drum,  and,  like  the  noisy  urchin  who  drums 
everybody  out  of  the  house  to  convince  them  of  the  reality 
of  the  possession,  I  am  going  to  incur  the  danger  of  being 
very  absurd  in  order  to  show  the  genuineness  of  my  pet 
patent  in  Heraldry.  I  know  it  is  very  stupid  to  explain  a 
joke,  and  extremely  pedantic  to  make  a  great  display  of 
knowing  a  little ;  but,  as  I  am  temporarily  discoursing  of 
asses  and  Englishmen,  think  I  am  excusable  for  indulging 
in  a  little  folly  and  considerable  ostentation.  So  ye  learned 
and  uninitiated,  have  at  ye  all :  here  goes.  When  we 
Heralds  speak  of  party  per  nebule  or  and  vert,  we  intend  to 
convey  the  idea  of  the  field  of  the  escutcheon  being  divided 
into  two  parts,  by  a  wavy,  irregular  sort  of  line ;  one  side 
is  colored,  or  gold ;  the  other  vert^  or  green.  The  gold  al 
ludes  to  the  riches  of  the  new-made  knight,  and  the  green 
to  the  refreshing  verdancy  of  every  thing  aristocratic.  The 
sinister  base  is  the  left-hand  corner  of  the  shield ;  and  the 
mammoth  caldron,  which  occupies  the  identical  corner  of 
our  coat  of  arms,  is  intended  vaguely  to  intimate  the  origin 
of  our  ennobled  soapmaker.  Gules  and  azure  mean  red 
and  blue,  the  colors  the  big  kettle  was  painted,  indicative 
of  the  fancy  tendency  of  the  manufacturer's  notions  as  he 
grew  rich.  The  honor  point  is  a  position  in  the  upper 
portion  of  the  dividing  line.  The  ass  rampant-regardant, 
is  an  ass  mounted  on  his  hind  legs  and  complacently  look 
ing  back  at  his  tail,  which  appendage,  in  the  case  of  our 
animal,  is  appropriately  decorated  with  bouquet  and  blue 
ribbons,  although  somewhat  singed  and  drooping  on  account 
of  the  recent  exodus  from  the  soap-boiler.  Of  course  this 
principal  figure  on  our  escutcheon  allegorically  represents 


HERALDRY.  345 

the  plump  citizen  himself.  The  zig-zag  lines  above  alluded 
to  form  the  ladder  by  which  the  lucky  ass  has  climbed  from 
his  humble  beginning,  through  the  medium  of  his  wealth, 
to  his  present  exalted  position.  From  this  happy  half-way 
place,  this  highest  point  in  the  hedge,  which  excludes  him 
from  the  Elysian  fields  of  his  aristocratic  neighbors  on  the 
other  side,  he  exultingly  snuffs  his  coming  triumphs,  and 
brays  an  indignant  adieu  to  all  recollections  of  the  past.  It 
is  scarcely  necessary  to  explain  that  the  patch  of  trefoil  is 
nothing  more  than  our  common  clover,  and  that  the  five 
peacocks  in  full  pride  are  the  five  orders  of  nobility  puffed 
up  to  the  utmost  extent  of  pomposity.  In  short,  this  dexter 
portion  of  our  escutcheon  is  intended  to  intimate  that  our 
supremely  happy  ass,  being  let  down  from  his  dizzy  eleva 
tion,  will  soon  roll  in  clover  with  his  noble  betters. 

The  enormous  profits  of  soap-making  render  it  a  favorite 
road  to  the  peerage.  "Whether  the  English  are  the  cleanest 
or  the  dirtiest  people  in  the  world  does  not  appear  from 
history,  but  certain  it  is  that  the  consumption  of  soap  in 
that  country  has  been  very  extraordinary  since  its  being  first 
made  in  Bristol  in  1524.  Its  lucrative  advantages  have 
tempted  kings  to  become  monopolists  in  this  branch  of 
trade,  and  many  a  greasy  manufacturer  has  snugly  floated 
down  the  sluggish  but  certain  stream  of  soft  soap  into  an 
aristocratic  harbor.  Indeed  there  is  no  one  person  or  class 
to  whom  the  nobility  are  so  much  indebted  for  increase  as 
the  soap-makers,  if  we  except  Charles  II.  and  the  brewers. 
Had  the  city  fathers  congratulated  the  merry  monarch  on 
being  the  father  of  the  nobility,  instead  of  the  people,  Ro 
chester's  reply  would  have  been  as  true  as  it  was  witty, 
when  he  said  there  was  no  doubt  of  his  being  the  father  of 
a  good  many  of  them.  For  five  of  the  twenty-two  Dukes  of 
England  owe  their  titles  to  being  direct  descendants  of  the 
illegitimate  children  of  Charles  II.  by  his  mistresses.  But 
15* 


346  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

the  soap-makers  and  brewers  are  the  compounders  of  the 
great  staple  commodities  of  consumption  in  Great  Britain, 
and  therefore  surpass  even  Charles  himself  in  the  number  of 
their  additions  to  the  peerage. 

It  is  with  the  sincerest  regret  that  I  see  a  growing  dis 
position  in  my  countrymen  to  rig  themselves  out  in  this 
cast-off  tinsel  finery  in  which  the  Heralds  of  England  are 
authorized  to  array  Englishmen.  It  is  with  the  deepest 
mortification  that  I  remember  how  eager  Mr.  Smith  and  Mr. 
Jones  are  on  arriving  in  England  to  rush  to  some  antiquarian 
bookstore,  and,  searching  through  the  ponderous  folios  of 
Heraldry  for  the  numerous  families  of  Smiths  and  Joneses, 
to  select  that  coat  of  arms  which  they  think  will  look  best 
on  a  carriage  door,  and  adopt  it  as  their  own.  I  do  not 
mean  to  blame  them  for  consulting  the  becoming  in  their 
selections,  more  especially  as  they  have  about  as  much  right 
to  one  crest  as  another.  I  am  forced  to  confess  that  to  see 
an  honest  Republican  tricked  out  in  the  Heraldic  motley, 
that  aristocratic  fools  of  Great  Britain  cut  their  antics  in,  is 
to  me  eminently  ridiculous  and  disgusting.  I  could  join, 
with  heart  and  soul,  the  English  press  in  lashing  to  thread 
bare  confusion  the  absurdity  of  this  harlequin  masquerade. 
It  evinces  a  weakness  of  character  unworthy  of  American 
manhood. 

Heraldry  is  absurd  even  in  England ;  but  still  it  is  a 
legalized  absurdity.  They  have  a  formula  of  folly,  and  have 
reduced  nonsense  to  a  science.  The  edicts  of  the  Heralds' 
College  are  as  solemn  and  as  serious  as  any  other  legal  pro 
ceedings,  and  their  decisions  are  as  binding  as  those  of  the 
courts  of  law.  But  here  we  have  no  such  mummery.  Coats 
of  arms  are  not  legally  established,  and  there  is  no  institu 
tion  to  give  them  validity.  Every  Smith  and  every  Jones 
can  select  the  style  of  arms  most  suited  to  their  fancy  from 
the  numerous  families  of  their  names  in  England.  The 


HERALDRY.  347 

jackdaw  in  his  borrowed  plumes  would  be  imposing  corn 
pared  with  Smith  strutting  in  those  he  has  stolen.  Where 
is  the  legal  record  in  this  country  to  determine  which  branch 
of  the  Smiths  he  is  descended  from  ?  Even  though  such 
records  might  originally  have  been  carefully  preserved,  they 
must  have  perished  from  ceasing  to  be  useful,  after  the 
Revolution  had  made  such  things  contemptible.  He  would 
have  been  a  bold  man  to  brave  the  storm  of  derision  that 
must  have  assailed  any  individual  boasting  of  being  descend 
ed  from  a  particular  branch  of  the  Smiths,  because  they 
happened  to  be  richer  than  the  rest  5  such  miserable  vanity, 
was  opposed  to  the  genius  of  the  new-made  Republic,  and 
was  not  to  be  tolerated.  A  man  would  scarcely  have  in 
curred  the  scorn  of  his  countrymen  for  the  solitary  gratifica 
tion  of  a  coat  of  arms.  In  abolishing  titles  our  forefathers 
rightly  abolished  their  trashy  appendages.  But  if  coats  of 
arms  be  essential  to  our  happiness  and  respectability,  let  us 
revive  titles,  and  establish  a  Heralds'  College  of  our  own,  not 
meanly  pilfer  gentility  in  pinches  from  England's  scanty  store. 
The  nice  young  man  who  is  guilty  of  such  petty  larceny 
should  be  smothered  in  a  bandbox  of  musk,  as  the  only  pun 
ishment  worthy  of  such  a  deed. 

There  is  also  an  increasing  anxiety,  in  our  upper  circles, 
as  to  what  a  man  does — and  who  his  father  was.  Provided 
his  pursuit  and  his  parents  be  honest,  the  man  should  be 
allowed  to  speak  for  himself.  His  possessing  the  manners 
and  cultivation  of  a  gentleman,  and  the  means  to  support 
the  appearance  of  one.  should  be  a  sufficient  passport  into 
any  society,  if  there  be  nothing  disreputable  connected  with 
him.  The  position  of  his  father  should  no  more  be  regarded 
as  an  apology  for  the  blackguardism  of  the  son,  than  the 
obscurity  of  that  parent  should  interfere  with  his  advance 
ment.  More  honor  is  due  the  man  who  attains  distinction 
in  defiance  of  the  obstacles  of  "  low  birth  and  iron  fortune." 


348  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

It  is  the  man  who  ennobles  the  occupation,  and  not  the  occu 
pation  that  ennobles  the  man.  It  is  worse  than  ridiculous 
to  exclude  a  man  of  intellect  and  acquirements  from  the 
higher  circles  of  society  because  his  father  was  a  mechanic, 
or  because  he  has  been  one  himself.  It  is  absurd  to  attempt 
to  determine  inexorably  what  occupations  shall  or  shall  not 
be  admitted  into  society.  Such  things  regulate  themselves 
as  naturally  as  water  seeks  a  level.  Men  are  unwilling  to 
expose  their  own  deficiencies  by  intruding  into  circles  where 
they  must  suffer  from  contrast.  And  people  are  not  going 
to  force  themselves  into  assemblies  where  the  coarseness  of 
their  manners  or  dress  would  attract  general  observation. 
They  could  not  be  coaxed  into  such  positions,  and  it  there 
fore  becomes  unnecessary  to  pass  laws  for  their  exclusion. 
There  is  a  decided  inclination  in  many  portions  of  our 
country  to  attach  undue  importance  to  the  "  learned  profes 
sions,"  without  regard  to  the  individual  qualifications  of 
their  members.  And  those  professional  gentlemen  are  most 
inclined  to  presume  upon  this  importance  whose  claims  are 
smallest.  I  have  often  felt  amused  by  the  airs  of  superiority 
which  very  young  lawyers  and  doctors  are  inclined  to  as 
sume.  Although  both  professions  are  somewhat  too  much 
given  to  this  sort  of  thing,  it  is  especially  observable  in  pro 
vincial  "members  of  the  bar."  The  time  required  by  most 
men  for  familiarizing  themselves  with  the  technicalities  and 
legal  obscurities  with  which  lawyer-legislators  have  for 
venal  purposes  loaded  the  statutes  of  every  country,  is  not 
greater  than  for  learning  successfully  to  cobble  a  worn  pair 
of  shoes.  And  yet  there  are  ignoramuses  preposterous 
enough  to  arrogate  to  themselves  the  infallibility  of  so 
many  Daniels,  merely  because  they  have  memorized  the 
leading  precepts  of  Blackstone.  They  seem  to  forget  that 
their  great  authority,  invaluable  in  his  way,  does  not  neces 
sarily  impart  a  knowledge  of  English  literature  ;  that  be- 


HERALDRY.  349 

cause  they  are  able  to  nose  out  a  flaw  in  an  indictment  and 
cheat  justice  with  her  own  tricks,  is  no  absolute  reason  for 
their  having  a  discriminating  taste  in  the  fine  arts — yet  in 
their  eyes  to  be  a  lawyer  is  to  be  all  that  is  desirable. 
Ridiculous  as  such  claims  must  appear  to  all  sensible 
people,  they  yield  in  folly  to  the  weakness  of  those  who  are 
deluded  into  the  belief  that  there  is  more  in  them  than 
bombast ;  and  who  stubbornly  persist  in  the  belief  that  all 
lawyers  must  be  oracles,  and  that  all  other  people  must  be 
fools. 

Young  lawyers  and  doctors  appear  principally  to  base 
their  pretensions  upon  a  contemptible  piece  of  tin,  eighteen 
inches  by  six,  which  bears  the  curious  inscription  of  "  John 
Smith,  attorney-at-law,"  or  "  Dr.  John  Jones."  Yet  it  is 
really  quite  amazing,  what  a  superstructure  of  arrogant  as 
sumption  some  of  these  learned  gentlemen  succeed  in  build 
ing  upon  so  insignificant  a  foundation  ;  and  I  am  sorry  to 
find  so  decided  a  disposition  in  some  of  our  Southwestern 
States,  to  humor  such  absurd  presumption.  In  the  incom 
prehensible  technicalities  of  the  law,  in  the  Latinized  jargon 
of  prescriptions,  in  drug-mixing  and  pill-rolling,  I  am  free 
to  acknowledge  that  the  learned  professions  far  excel  the 
less  enlightened  portion  of  their  countrymen.  But,  by  what 
process  they  are  presumed  to  monopolize  all  the  cultivation 
and  intellect  of  the  country,  continues  one  of  those  myste 
ries  which  fashionable  calculations  only  can  solve.  So  long 
as  humanity  is  afflicted  with  such  curses  as  lawsuits  and 
sore  shins,  lawyers  and  doctors  must  be  considered  eminently 
useful  members  of  society.  But  I  am  unwilling  to  concede 
that  a  man  must  necessarily  be  destitute  of  all  taste  and 
refinement,  because  he  happens  not  to  be  familiar  with  the 
operation  of  pounding  a  mortar,  or  writing  a  deed. 

It  is  a  fact,  of  which  the  legal  profession  may  be  justly 
proud,  that  almost  all  of  our  greatest  statesmen  have  com- 


350  ENGLISH    ITEMS. 

menced  their  career  as  lawyers.  I  acknowledge  that  the 
application  to  books,  which  is  essential  to  their  success  as 
lawyers,  often  excites  that  love  of  general  reading,  which 
almost  always  produces  an  elegantly-cultivated  mind.  But, 
because  an  aspiring  upstart  has  in  his  pocket  a  sheepskin 
permission  to  nonsuit  his  clients,  that  he  must,  in  conse 
quence,  have  a  refined  taste  and  brilliant  intellect,  is  much 
more  ridiculous  in  us  to  acknowledge,  than  for  him  to  assert. 
But  this  is  one  of  the  hallucinations  peculiar  to  new  states, 
which  time  and  more  extended  observation  never  fail  to 
correct.  Attaching  such  importance  to  mere  pursuits  is  too 
much  like  the  senseless  respect  of  the  English  for  birth. 
Because  a  man  is  a  lawyer  or  doctor,  is  no  better  reason  for 
his  being  an  elegant  and  well-read  gentleman,  than  for  a 
descendant  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  being  a  hero. 

Our  republican  institutions  demand  that  the  man,  with 
out  regard  to  his  father  or  his  profession,  should  speak  for 
himself.  If  he  be  deficient  in  mind  or  manners,  a  distin 
guished  father  or  a  learned  profession  ought  not  to  save  him 
from  neglect ;  as  humble  birth  and  lowly  pursuit  ought  not 
to  hamper  genius. 


AN    EXPLANATION.  351 


AN  EXPLANATION. 

The  Church  and  State  are  as  closely  connected  in  abuses 
as  in  law.  After  reading  of  one,  a  person  naturally 
looks  for  the  other.  I  had  most  certainly  intended  to  de 
vote  a  considerable  portion  of  my  book  to  the  corruptions 
under  the  British  Government,  but,  in  approaching  them,  I 
find  I  am  unable  to  treat  them  with  the  attention  they  so 
richly  deserve,  and  therefore  prefer  to  omit  them  altogether, 
rather  than  to  review  them  hastily.  They  are  as  numerous 
as  startling,  and  would  require  a  small  book  to  expose  them. 
But  I  cannot  forego  the  hope  of  referring  more  fully  at  some 
future  time  to  these  outrages  perpetrated  by  the  State.  My 
readers  have  a  right,  I  confess,  to  expect  some  exposition 
here,  and  nothing  but  the  want  of  space  prevents  my  doing 
so.  None  but  those  intimately  acquainted  with  their  ex 
tent  can  realize  the  difficulty  of  compressing  them  into  a 
chapter. 


THE    END. 


THE    WORKS    OF   JOHN    C.    CALHOUN. 


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HIS  LIFE. 

CALHOUN,  CLAY,  and  WEBSTER  are  three  names  which  will  long  be  venerated 
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statesmen,  there  are  scarcely  any  which  bear  so  directly  upon  the  great  measures 
adopted  by  our  Government,  during  the  last  forty  years,  as  those  of  the  lamented 
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which  were  made  on  them.  With  those  who  take  an  interest  in  our  national  histo- 
ty,  the  value  of  the  writings  of  our  public  men  cannot  be  too  highly  estimated. 

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D.    AP  P  LET ON    4-     CO  MP  ANY 

HAVE  JUST  PUBLISHED 

flui  c  k  -  fl  n  a  r  h  s 

FROM    AN     EDITOR'S     TABLE. 
By    L.    GAYLORD   CLARK,    Editor  of   the    "  Knickerbocker   Magazine. 

WITH    ORIGINAL   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

One  vol.  12mo.;  handsomely  printed  and  bound.     Price  $1  25. 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS,  Etc. 

"I  have  often  thought  it  a  great  pity  that  the  sallies  of  humor,  the  entertaining  or 
amusing  incidents,  and  the  touches  of  tender  pathos,  that  are  so  frequently  to  be  met 
with  in  the  '  Gossip  '  of  the  Knickerbocker,  should  be  comparatively  lost  among  the 
multitudinous  leaves  of  a  magazine." — WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

"  This  will  prove  one  of  the  pleasantest  books  of  the  season,  with  alternations  of 
healthful  mirth  and  wholesome  sadness.  The  Editor's  Table  of  the  Knickerbocker  has 
things  quite  too  good  to  be  forgotten,  and  it  is  well  thought  of  to  gather  them  and  gar 
ner  them  np  in  a  volume." — N.  Y.  Evening  Post. 

"A  collection  of  the  very  cream  of  the  good  things  which  during  nineteen  years  tho 
popular  and  experienced  Editor  of  the  Knickerbocker,  Mr.  L.  Gaylord  Clark,  has  so 
bountifully  and  acceptably  spread  before  his  readers." — N.  Y.  Albion. 

"A  repast  of  wliich  thousands  have  partaken  with  zest,  and  found  intellectual  re 
freshment,  invigorating  and  delightful,  therefrom.  Mr.  Clark's  humor  is  quiet,  soothing, 
irresistible:  it  diffuses  itself  through  your  whole  system,  and,  when  you  join  him  in  his 
benignant  smile,  a  glow  passes  all  over  you.  So  with  his  pathos,  it  is  not  mawkish,  nor 
exaggerated,  but  '  the  real  tear :'  and  leaves  the  reader — if  our  temperance  friends  will 
not  pervert  our  meaning — with  a  '  drop  in  his  eye'  also." — Boston  Post. 

"A  very  epicurean  feast  of  the  richest  and  daintiest,  culled  with  the  most  sedulous 
care  and  nicest  discrimination.  It  is  a  collection  of  luxuries  such  as  was  never  before 
made  on  American  soil ;  and  thousands,  when  they  hear  of  it,  will  bo  ready  to  greet 
their  favorite  purveyor  with  old  Chaucer's  irrepressible,  '  Ah,  benedicite  !  Ah,  bene- 
dicite  r  "-K  Y.  Daily  Tribune. 

"  The  work  will  be  hailed  with  satisfaction  by  every  one  who  can  appreciate  tho 
genial  humor,  wit,  and  pathos,  which  have  given  such  a  zest  to  the  Knickerbocker  for 
so  many  years." — Augusta  (Me.)  Gospel  Banner. 

"  The  title  is  a  very  taking  and  happy  one.  It  cannot  fail  to  have  a  wide  sale,  and 
become  immensely  popular;  readable,  quotable,  and  enjoyable,  for  all  ages,  sexes,  and 
conditions." — N.  Y.  Sunday  Courier. 

" A  most  various  and  pleasant  companion  for  the  traveller  abroad,  or  tho  stayer  at 
home."— Croydon  (Ind.)  Gazette. 

"  We  have  often  wished  for  just  this  very  book,  and  we  shall  welcome  ib-rejoicingly." 
— Suftquehanna  (Pa.)  Register. 

"These  '  Knick-Knacks'  are  bound  to  have  a  run  wherever  Clark  and  tho  Knicker 
bocker  are  known,  which  is  everywhere  this  side  of  tho  Kattirs  and  the  New-Zealand- 
era." — Nashua  (N~.  //.)  Journal. 

"That  will  be  a  book  for  the  million— for  all  capable  of  feeling  and  enjoying— who 
can  neither  resist  laughter  nor  forbid  tears  that  will  out,  and  must  have  vent,  when  the 
secret  strings  of  the  heart  are  touched.  'Old  Knick'  has  many  friends  and  admirers 
•who  will  thank  him  for  this  excellent  idea.  His  '  Knick-Knacks'  will  go  off  like  hot 
cakes.  They  are  just  the  article  the  people  most  alfect,  and  cannot  fail  to  be  popular 
witli  all  classes  of  readers." — Reading  (Pa.)  Journal. 

"To  doubt  the  success  of  the  '  Knick-Knacks'  would  be  about  oqual  to  doubting  tho 
success  of  the  Knickerbocker  itself,  which,  happily,  is  one  of  the  fixed  literary  facts  of 
American  history." — Qodeifs  Lady'tt  Hook. 

"Those  who  have  enjoyed  the  'feast  of  fat  things'  spread  before  them  monthly,  in 
the  'Editor's  Table'  of  'Old  Knick,'  need  no  artificial  stimulus  to  create  an  appetite 
for  the  *  Knick-Knacks.'"— Adri<in  (Mich)  WatchUncer. 


If  Clark  does  not  print  and  sell  f>o,0(H)  copies,  '  tho  fools  are  not  all  dead,'  but 
:ided  majority  among  tho  '  peoples,'  " — Graham's  Magazine. 


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